Cursed Frustration
by Besina
Summary: A cursed relic finds its way into the school and all hell breaks loose. Snape-centric PWP. Many pairings and ensemble OCs.
1. Cursed Frustration: Chapter 1

Severus had been examining a small statue that had been surreptitiously left on the edge of his desk. Unsure of its provenance, he knew better than to handle it, so a visual inspection would have to do. The symbols engraved on it appeared to be old and the scenes depicted upon it, obscene. Probably something to do with a fertility rite… Ancient and probably priceless; what it was doing perched precariously on his desk, he didn't know.

Perhaps it was time to ask Dumbledore for his thoughts, but before he could get much farther with that idea, an explosion issued forth from the potions lab, nearly rocking the building. He saw the statue teeter and begin its descent to destruction, moments before he unthinkingly dove to catch it. He winced as it landed in his grip, but nothing dire seemed to happen. Shakily, he righted himself, releasing a drawn-out breath to steady his nerves.

He set the statue back on his desk, grabbed his wand and made two strides across the room to see which moron had blown up the lab this time.

Before he could reach the mid-point of his room, a severely shaken-looking Ravenclaw 7th year burst into his office, unsteadily closing the door behind her. "Professor," she began, but he was upon her before she could finish her thought.

She let out a slight squeak seeing the stern face of the potions master bearing down on her so quickly, and clenched her eyes shut, ready for the berating of a lifetime. Instead, she felt two, large, rough hands grip either side of her face, a stuttering exhalation of breath on her cheek as Snape leaned down and pressed his lips roughly onto hers, releasing a small moan of satisfaction as he did so.

She emitted another squeak as her eyes flew open and she dropped all of her supplies. Severus let go, shaking his head as if to clear it, then began to apologize profusely, seconds before he grabbed hold of her again, capturing her mouth with his. This time, after the initial shock wore off, she began to melt into it. Hands shaking, Severus pushed himself away, leaning his forehead on hers and breathlessly began to apologize again.

She stared at him with glassy eyes, unsure of what exactly was going on, but before he'd made it even halfway through the stumbling apology, she found him out of breath and pressing her against the wall, lifting her up; rucking up her robes as he went and looping his right arm beneath her leg. She heard him mutter, "Dear god..." his breath coming in ragged draws, before uttering one more "Sorry..." then, "Stupefy!"

She slumped, unconscious, onto his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her, and carried her, still partially wrapped around him, to the couch, where he delicately lay her down; then began pacing the floor, desperately trying to think. He noticed himself unwittingly getting closer and closer to the couch with each step, before he'd pull himself away again. Whatever was happening, he certainly couldn't have her remembering it. Distractedly, he paused, pulled out his wand, pointed it toward her head and muttered, "Obliviate".

He was getting shaky again trying to control his impulses. He found himself sinking down next to her on the couch, inexorably drawn to her neck, lying across her and planting kisses along it, then as much as he was longing to give in to his body, frankly frightening himself as he found his right hand starting to fumble with the buttons on his trousers.

He began muttering every counter-curse he knew, but it seemed only to make things worse; gradually his head clouded, and the next thing he was aware of was his body, overheated, pounding away inside his student, muffled moans escaping his lips.

"Contra...ceptus," he managed between shaking breaths, before he lost himself again.

* * *

><p>"Dobby!" Snape's voice echoed through the dungeons, as his wits briefly came back to him. He hated the snivelling little house-elf, but he was in a particularly bad bind, and at least he could rely on the creature's discretion.<p>

Dobby seemed to pop into existence out of nowhere, took in the sight, sucked in a small gasp, then inquired, shakily, "What is it that Professor Snape needs, sir?"

What Professor Snape needed at that moment, was a way out of what he could only assume had been a rather insidious curse. Currently his robes were pulled back, trouser fronts unbuttoned and he was ploughing the daylights out of a comely, unconscious, female, 7th-year student, sprawled beneath him on the couch.

"I've been cursed, Dobby. Can you do anything to break it?" he nearly pleaded, as his hips rocked forward again, drawing a small inhalation and involuntary shudder from him.

"Sir did not mean to do this?" inquired Dobby, hands flutteringly indicating the scene before him.

"Of course not!" Snape roared indignantly, "Do you think I would actually intend to do this to a student?"

"Um…" stuttered Dobby, not knowing exactly what to say, and severely frightened by Snape even under the best of circumstances. "Dobby does not understand this magic. It feels dark and very, very old. What should Dobby do, sir?"

"Well by gods, if you can't undo it, then fetch Dumbledore," he shouted, his hips slamming forward again. "QUICKLY!" he emphasized, as Dobby stood gawping.

Dobby popped out of existence only to re-appear minutes later with a rather ill put-together Dumbledore.

Dumbledore looked a bit shocked, despite Dobby's fumbling attempt at an explanation when he'd come to fetch the Headmaster. He took in the scene before attempting something rather simple: "Severus, STOP that!"

Snape groaned, and responded with some exasperation, "Don't you think I would, if I could?" Another buck of his hips rocked the body of the girl lying beneath him.

"Couldn't hurt to try. What happened?" inquired Dumbledore.

"I was inspecting -– that," Severus waved his hand toward the small statue now standing in the middle of his desk. "Someone had left it on my desk. I was taking every precaution with it, when an explosion caused it to tumble; I caught it without thinking.

"As nothing disastrous seemed to come of it and I had just replaced it on the desk when she," he indicated the form beneath him, "entered the room. Before she even made it halfway into the office, I attacked her.

"I don't know why, but I can't seem to control it, and I can't seem to stop. The best I could do was to render her unconscious, modify her memory as best I could in this state, and cast a contraceptive charm, so that at least I don't damage her in that respect. It's been going on for at least half an hour, if the clock can be trusted, and any spell I can think to use to try to stop or minimize it, only seems to make things worse. Of course my mind is wandering a bit at the moment and I'm unable to put my full thought behind anything right now."

"Have you tried simply moving her away from you?"

"Yes, but it seems I only follow. The only solace I take in any of this is that we weren't in public when it happened." He gritted his teeth as another wave of pleasure flowed unwelcomely over him.

Dumbledore leaned down to inspect the statue, seemingly inured to the goings-on in Snape's office.

"Don't touch it, by all means don't touch it," hissed Snape between his teeth, his body still rutting against the girl. Tears of frustration began to roll down his cheeks as his guilt over his conduct and his complete inability to stop the assault played havoc with his mind.

"I wasn't meaning to, dear boy," replied Dumbledore. "It appears to be some sort of ancient fertility symbol," he stated matter-of-factly.

"You don't say," growled Snape, "How amazingly helpful."

"I think I may have a temporary solution for you, though I don't know how it will play out. Dobby, you stay here and make sure the Professor doesn't leave, or that anyone else comes through that door. I shall disapparate with the girl to Poppy's care for the time being."

"Impossible on the school...," Snape drew a jagged breath as his exertions continued, "...grounds."

"Being Headmaster has its privileges, Professor," he smiled before laying a hand on the girl, and disappearing with her.

His body no longer occupied with a mate, Snape let out a frustrated cry, and rose up from the couch. He advanced toward Dobby, speaking slowly and deliberately under his breath.

"Dobby, while I respect the commands Dumbledore has given you, you might best be served by completing them outside. I certainly don't want to bugger a house-elf, but I have the rising feeling that if left no alternative, you may be in severe danger," Snape managed through clenched teeth and a tenuous control over slowing his advance.

Dobby gave a frightened "Eep!" before disappearing to the other side of the door and casting every sealing charm he could think of on it, as well as several befuddlement and obscurement charms.

Not thinking that was quite enough, he hastily wrote a note stating that "Professor Snape is indisposed and any questions or concerns students have should be taken to" … he paused. No one knew of the situation but Snape, himself and Dumbledore, who would be too busy to deal with students at the moment, and he didn't think he should involve anyone else. He finished the note lamely with "… someone else." ; then adhered the ridiculous missive to the wall.

One more quick thought had Dobby mustering enough courage to pop back into Snape's quarters swiftly enough to cast a full-body bind on him, and disconnect his fireplace from the floo network. Apologetically, he levitated Snape onto his bed, where at least he would be more comfortable, and with some embarrassment re-fastened the professor's trousers, before popping outside the door to stand guard once more.

* * *

><p>Dumbledore, having just dropped the unconscious girl off with Poppy, made his way through the library to the restricted section and summoned forth all the books which contained any information about fertility symbols or rites.<p>

When he found the information he'd been looking for, he shook his head sadly and muttered, "Oh poor Severus," before disapparating, book in hand, back to Snape's quarters.

He found Snape on his bed, immobile, but still weakly attempting to thrash, beads of sweat forming on his brow as he fought against the curse which held him there.

Dumbledore approached, sitting on the end of the bed and patted Snape's boot. "Now then boy, I seriously doubt you can help yourself, but if you can, please don't fight it, you'll only do yourself harm."

He flipped to the relevant page in the book he'd brought and held it up to Snape. "It appears the statue you touched was employed by entire villages during fertility ceremonies. Up to twenty of them would invoke its powers at once, then some mad revelry would begin. It would appear, dear boy, that you have taken all of this burden onto yourself.

"It is said that the festivities could wear on for days, until the participants all dropped from sheer exhaustion. I fear that, in your case, this means you may need to have the endurance of twenty in order to simply survive this trial. It also appears from the state you are in now, that we simply cannot merely leave you bound for the requisite days, as from what I can tell so far, you are likely to do yourself a grave injury. Therefore, I shall see what I can do to find you some volunteers to help you work this through your system."

Dumbledore lifted an eyebrow as Snape was obviously trying to communicate something.

"Ah, you wish to speak? So be it, but I agree that we'd all be safer with you bound than running amok, so, if you don't mind too much…" and with that, Dumbledore touched his wand to each of Snape's limbs in turn, gradually lifting it to the matching bedpost, effectively binding him to the bed. One more touch of the wand to Snape's lips freed him to speak.

"Headmaster, I very much doubt…"

"That I could find volunteers willing to help you? If that is the case, you severely underestimate your appeal to the vast majority of the female, and some of the male, attendees of this school. If you don't mind me adding, even I find you rather appealing in this particular predicament," he nodded at Snape's vulnerable spread-eagled position, "but have no worries, I shan't be exploiting it. Now," he said rising, "let us see about those volunteers, shall we?"

* * *

><p>Draco Malfoy was rather annoyed. He'd intended to be the first to Professor Snape's office after the instructor had entered, however he'd been outdone by that Ravenclaw girl. He'd heard the beginnings of things: her shocked gasp, hurriedly muffled by Snape's mouth; the rustling of clothing; a few of Snape's startled apologies quickly cut off by his befuddled and hastily mumbled incantations; then the steady rhythm of someone rocking, and heavy, satisfied breathing interspersed with discreet groans.<p>

He'd fled the hallway in a huff, but now hearing that the girl was mysteriously in the hospital ward, wondered if he hadn't actually had a fortunate escape.

Perhaps Borgin and Burkes wasn't the best place to procure effective aphrodisiacs to use on his Head of House.

* * *

><p>Dumbledore's voice rang throughout the corridors, though no one exactly understood what he'd said -– it had been an incantation of some sort, and all through the building, some of the seventh-year students were suddenly giving off a light glow, rising from their seats and heading out the door. Most of them were female, a few male, and all of them entirely baffled.<p>

They assembled themselves in the Room of Requirement, wondering what the mysterious summons had been about, looking about at one another for a clue.

A wave of his wand sent the doors flying shut and another effectively sound-proofed the room from prying ears, though he supposed he just could have made that a requirement as well.

Dumbledore cleared his throat and began: "You are all assembled here because, to some degree or another, each and every one of you have some sort of sexual attraction to Professor Snape."

The students looked at once: shocked; horrified; embarrassed; and enormously curious about their fellow students, all trying to sneak a look about the room without looking up, themselves - a vastly difficult task to achieve.

"Don't worry, your secrets are safe here," he added. "After each of you leave this room, you shall not even remember what it was that we discussed.

"I bring you here because our esteemed Professor is in need of help; help that your interest in him might be able to provide. He is currently under the throes of a rather indelicate curse which, so far as I can tell, has no remedy except to let it run its course. He is in need of willing sexual partners to help allay the worst of it.

"Seeing as you are already predisposed toward the Professor, and that I shall assure you will not remember your dalliances with him as any more than a daydream, I suggest that now may be the time for you to act on some of your fantasies in the pursuit of a good cause. I shall make sure the Professor's memories are altered so as not to influence your future student-teacher relationships. Do I have any takers?"

A hushed and bewildered silence fell over the assembled crowd, followed by whispering and more than a few giggles. Tentatively, a few hands began to rise, followed moments later by a few more, then even more. By the end of a minute, the hand of everyone present was in the air.

"Well done!" boomed Dumbledore. "Those females wishing to engage Professor Snape, will have a contraceptive charm settled on them before departure. And, so as not to turn this into a Roman orgy, I will be sending you in one-by-one, as needed. When one returns, another will go, and so on.

"This endeavour may take days to complete, so until then, I suggest we sequester ourselves here, where our needs can be met without intermixing with the rest of the student body, as I can't have Professor Snape's condition widely known. I will make sure you are excused from your classes, and will summon your books for you, so not all of your studying time will be lost.

"Miss Abencroft, please come speak with me."

The announcement over, some of the students, losing a bit of their bashfulness, turned to one another and began speaking in soft tones.

Miss Abencroft, Sylvia, nervously approached Dumbledore. "I'm to be first then?" she inquired, thinking sometimes alphabetical order did not suit her very well.

"Yes, dear, but don't be nervous. Remember neither you nor he will remember what occurs. Just feel free to live out your fantasies with the knowledge that that is all they shall remain afterwards. Live for the moment, my dear."

He smiled warmly at her before grasping her hand and disapparating with her into Snape's quarters.

"When you are exhausted, use this," he placed an ensorcelled portkey in the form of a feather, on the desk, "to port back to us, and we shall take care of you there." He glanced at her one more time, "Don't feel ashamed of what you're doing, my dear, it is all for the greater good," and under his breath combined with a sly wink, added, "and don't we all know how much the Professor could use a good shag." He smiled conspiratorially at her then with one more wave of his wand, she heard him mutter the contraceptus charm before he disappeared, leaving her alone in Snape's rooms.


	2. Chapter 2

She looked around the office, anxiously. Snape was nowhere to be seen. She wasn't even quite sure anymore if she _wanted_ to see the Professor. The colour rose in her cheeks as she thought about the last time he'd lectured her in class –- what would he say _now_?

She could imagine his disapproving voice as she tried to pleasure him. **_"_No! Miss Abencroft, that is definitely** _**not **_**_where you put that!"_**, followed by a heavy sigh and his turning to the class, **"would someone** _**please**_** be so kind as to enlighten Miss Abencroft to the fundamentals of curse-related banging?"_  
><em>**

She almost made herself laugh at that. Suddenly, she felt more relaxed. No matter how fumbling she was, Dumbledore had promised Professor Snape wouldn't remember a thing. That was, no matter how intimidating at the moment, rather thrilling.

She mustered up her courage and called out "Professor?"

"In here!" came the reply, sounding nearly like a grunt.

She walked to the doorway of the bedroom, and stood transfixed by what she saw: the professor, still clothed, but tethered to the bed, straining against invisible bonds, his back arching, face dewy with perspiration.

His eyes locked on her. "P..please," he managed, sounding hoarse. This was no time for dignity. He'd been left here going on two hours with no release; his mind was threatening to tear itself apart if he didn't get some relief soon.

"Professor!" she exclaimed, sounding a bit shocked, drinking in the scene before her. Of course she hadn't really known what to expect, but considering what Dumbledore had told them of his malady, surely this shouldn't be such a surprise.

He laid his head back on the pillows, closing his eyes, "Oh gods," he mumbled, "are you not a volunteer? Did that nitwit, Dobby, let you in here?" His cheeks fairly glowed with embarrassment and humiliation.

Seeing his distress, she forgot all pretence and strode quickly to the bed, perching on it by his side. "Oh no, Professor, sorry… I _am _a volunteer –- I've come to help. What should I do?" she asked searchingly, running her eyes across his tightly splayed form.

"Anything," he croaked, twisting his hips on the mattress, "anything at all."

Suddenly all her fear of him evaporated, as she moved up toward his head, and slowly brought her lips down upon his. He pushed his head up to crush further into it, nearly sobbing in relief as he did so.

She pushed his head back down to the pillows, climbed astride his chest, pushed his hair out of his face and held her own back as she leaned down for another, more passionate kiss. His lips were warm, and surprisingly soft. She drew in a breath as she sank deeper into it: warm skin, cotton, wool, perspiration, a slight tinge of copper – possibly from the cauldrons in the lab…

He was warm…possibly too warm, she shifted back slightly to take in his outfit, not that she didn't already know it by heart: flowing robes, long woollen frock coat, stiff white shirt, trousers, boots. Suddenly she wondered what he looked like beneath all that. She scooted back along his chest until she came to rest on his groin, trying to get a better look at him. An unearthly moan escaped his lips as his hips bucked up against her, raising her in the air.

She laughed and steadied her hands against his chest.

"Not funny," he muttered.

To which she replied: "I don't know, feels kind of like a free carnival ride. Come one, come all, Ride the Snape! " she chuckled, a little bit giddy from the situation she supposed; she couldn't imagine herself saying this to him at any other time.

He frowned, then unwillingly ground against her once more, exasperation showing on his face.

"Okay, she said," leaning forward to plant another delicious kiss on his lips, into which he virtually hummed with delight. "I won't tease." She straightened back up and ran her hands over his chest, eliciting another soft moan. "Hmm, seems like you enjoy just about …"

"Anything," he broke in gasping, "anything you want."

This was already better than any fantasies she'd entertained. He'd never been this undone before, this willing to please. In her daydreams, he'd always remained cool and dispassionate, even while fucking her into his desk. This was much… nicer, she decided.

She took her time unfastening the buttons of his frock coat, slowly opening it to find what had been a nice crisp, white shirt beneath it; now rumpled and damp with his exertions. She leaned down over him again, her body pressed firmly against his and she sucked his earlobe into her mouth, then began kissing and biting her way down his neck. The noises he made were indescribable mixtures of moans, groans, and whimpers of pure need. He blinked back tears.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

"Just…just…frustrated," he moaned back.

"Oh," she said bluntly, "Don't worry, I'm still going to fuck the daylights out of you, I'd just like to take my time, if you don't mind."

"Anything," he gasped again, "yes, whatever you need. Please…" he left off panting.

She smiled and began unbuttoning his shirt, runching it to the sides as it opened, and playing her hands across his chest, watching interestedly as her hands traced the taut lines of muscles and ran over the sparse fur covering it. She rubbed in circles, for a while, enjoying the feel of him beneath her hands, the little sounds he made, the gasps whenever she neared a nipple.

She grinned at that, bent down once more to take one into her mouth. He arched his body nearly in half; she bit down slowly, then sucked. Noises she had no idea a human could make issued forth from him, his breath coming fast enough to make him dizzy. She sat back for a moment, enjoying her little experiment, then leaned in once more to tease the other; rewarded with much the same sounds.

She smiled, rubbing her hands down his stomach, scooting back as she did so. She came to his belt buckle; he raised his hips, still panting. "Oh god, yes, yes, please…"

She quickly removed the belt and his trousers, pushing them down to his knees, surveying him lying there, dishevelled, mostly naked, his hard cock tenting his boxers. _Mental picture time,_ she thought, knowing full well she wouldn't be able to keep the image for long, if what Dumbledore had said was true, but she wanted to savour it for the time being anyway.

She gradually crawled back up his body until she straddled his chest once more, then slowly, very slowly, began to divest herself of her robes, his eyes locked intently on her, watching her every move. The robes slipped down her shoulders to pool around her hips, across his chest. He slicked his lips with his tongue as he continued to watch. She gradually loosened her school tie, unbuttoned her blouse, removed her bra and undies, keeping her uniform skirt on. He was fairly quaking beneath her.

She leaned forward offering one of her breasts to his lips. They latched on feverishly, his tongue flicking around the smallish nub of her nipple, lips sucking on the flesh, leaving small bruises in his wake, making _her_ gasp for once. She switched to the other, and he repeated the process with single-mindedness and something approaching devotion, groans floating up from his effectively muffled mouth. She let him play for a while, before pressing herself back down against him, sliding her bare chest down over his, pressing her lips along his sternum, working her way back down to his crotch.

As she disappeared from his immediate view, he lifted his head, straining to watch. She kept her eyes locked on his, as she grasped the waistband of his boxers in her teeth and slowly pulled it down past his hips. Coming back up, she wound her fingers around the base and slid his cock into her mouth.

His cry of delight was followed by a huge exhalation of breath and his tensed body relaxed for a moment before he pushed back up into her. He was nicely thick, a good hand-hold, but not too much to choke on, and rather long; she doubted she'd get his entire length into her mouth, so she merely circled her hand around his prick, using her mouth on the top three-quarters, while mimicking her movements on the bottom.

"Fu..uck!" he cried, trying to pump his way into her mouth. She held him down with one hand on his pelvis.

"Greedy," she admonished, playfully, sucking him back in, letting her tongue play along his length, circling it a few times and giving the tip a few flicks for good measure.

He laid his head back on the pillows, no longer able to support it, and merely panted, eyes closed, blissed beyond belief.

She tortured his cock with a few more sucks and dalliances with her tongue before she garnered his attention once more by stopping.

He opened his eyes with a start, mystified by the lack of stimulation. He moaned desperately as he watched her sitting there, eyeing him. Then, once she was sure she had his full attention focused on her, she met his gaze once more, moved slightly forward, lifted her skirt, and held him steady as she very slowly and deliberately lowered herself onto him, her eyes not leaving his for the entirety of the act. He huffed, and blurted out the most unending stream of praises mixed with independent vowels and foul language she'd ever heard. Then she started rocking.

His eyes nearly crossed. No longer capable of independent thought, much less coherent sentences, he gave in totally, rising to meet her as she slid herself up and down his cock, burying him to the hilt, frequently squeezing her muscles around him, drawing great shuddering breaths from him. She leaned over his chest and continued to piston herself away on him, while meaningless words tumbled from him, slowly stroking and kissing his chest as she did so.

With some effort, he made himself intelligible again, panting over and over, "Thank you… oh god! Thank you for this…" She smirked, purring, enjoying the feeling of him inside her.

"Oh, you're welcome, very welcome. Thank _you, _Professor…" Her thrusts grew harder as she sat back up, impaling herself on him, her hands dancing lightly over her neck and chest. She felt her muscles tense suddenly as she threw back her head and shouted out her orgasm, rocking madly back and forth as her muscles spasmed and clenched around him, milking his cock.

His already overloaded senses couldn't take it; the sight, sound, even smell, of this delightful young woman bringing herself off riding him, his eyes squeezed shut, everything turned a blinding white, and lightning seemed to run down his spine, erupting from his cock for what seemed like minutes on end.

It finally ended, and he opened his eyes to see the exhausted girl, still astride him, bending forward and breathing deeply, catching her breath, her hair mussed, but lovely. She slowly disengaged herself from him, stretching her length next to his.

He still lay panting.

"Um, Professor?" she began.

"That…was…incredible," he gasped before she could finish.

She turned about 8 shades of pink at the compliment but continued, "I know you're probably worn out, Merlin knows I am, but I was wondering…"

"Anything you want," he panted, repeating his mantra from before.

"Dumbledore says I shan't be permitted to remember any of this, but would you mind?" she drew back her hair to one side, offering her neck to him, "…I know I won't remember, but a souvenir would be nice," she said, suddenly sounding shy again.

His near-growl followed by his mouth fastening onto her proffered neck, was all the reassurance she needed.

He worked his lips, tongue and teeth over it multiple times, leaving a handful of rapidly purpling bruises in his wake. Finally sated, his head dropped back to the pillows, chest heaving.

Tired, she cast one arm across him and lay there a few minutes, basking in the afterglow.

As it receded, she finally began to regain her wits, and realized it was time to go.

She looked about at the mess they'd made of the bed, and at the dishevelled professor lying in the middle of it. It seemed his respite was short-lived as he was already beginning to harden again, a slight panic rising behind his eyes, as those impulses he couldn't control were making their way toward the surface again.

She gathered and donned her clothes, then said a cleaning incantation to freshen up both the sheets and the professor. Disappearing for a moment into the bathroom, she returned with a flannel to rub him down with (he moaned all the way through it) and clean him up for the next volunteer (his hips started bucking again, naughty man), not strictly necessary, given the incantation, but considerate. She smiled. _They didn't know what they were in for!_

She wondered, vaguely, why she didn't feel jealous at the expectation of his entertaining another visitor, but supposed it may be that since none of them would remember it, they were all kind of in this together.

Remembering the fun she had undressing him, she pulled his clothes back on, neatened them up and buttoned every single last button (feeling slightly guilty at his frustrated moans). There! That did it. All set.

She pressed a lingering kiss to his forehead, before walking out of the room, and picking up the feather Dumbledore had left for her.

* * *

><p>During her absence, the embarrassment of those assembled had largely worn off, and they'd become rather a jovial bunch; laughing, cracking jokes, trying to out-do each other with interesting ideas they'd like to try on with the Professor.<p>

When she returned with a _**pop**_, slightly mussed, covered in love bites and looking tired but blissful, a cheer went up around the room, and many of the students surged forward to pat her on the back, give her a hug, and ask her how it went.

She smiled lamely at them, then approached Dumbledore, placing the port-key in front of him. "Sir, do you think you could manage to get me a ledger of some sort? I have some advice and a few ideas I'd like to write down for the others, "she added.

Dumbledore looked at her somewhat astonished. "Brilliant idea, my lass! But of course, this _is _the Room of Requirement, after all." And as they turned, there in front of her stood a large, empty book upon a pedestal, open to the first page; quill and ink laying ready beside it.

She smiled widely, walked over to it, and thought for a minute before grasping the quill.

"The Rules," she wrote, underlining it.

_ You may ride the Snape hard, but you may not put him away wet (in other words clean up after yourself, leave the professor and his bed and quarters as clean or better than when you found him.)_

_ Do not do a permanent injury to the Snape, he's very willing, in fact, possibly overly so, and may be prone to do things bodies weren't designed to do._

_ If the Snape does become injured, report it immediately and note it in the book._

_ If you have any advice, warnings or suggestions for your fellow students, please note them here (not required, but very nice)_

She drew another line beneath that and wrote "Comments", then entered the first of them.

_ Verrry enthusiastic but does not stay sated for long; if you can't do a repeat performance come back quickly so someone else can attend to him._

_ He'll beg for immediate release, but I think he likes some teasing.__Be careful, he bites. :)__I buttoned him back up for you because, really, who doesn't want to undo all those buttons?_

As she finished, the rest of the students gathered around it, reading, nodding and chuckling at her instructions and comments.

"Who's next?" someone piped up.

They all turned to Dumbledore.


	3. Chapter 3

A steady string of students made its way into his quarters that day. Though they left him time to recuperate between them, his head was always foggy with need again within minutes of their departure; and the longer they left him, the worse it got. Sometimes by the time the next one appeared, he'd lost all ability for rational thought and could only produce growls and moans in response to their ministrations.

Not much changed from one to the other; quite a few of them just made themselves content simply straddling him and riding him to completion –- not that he minded. He also never thought that having his clothes ripped off, sometimes literally, time and time again wouldn't get tedious, but it sent a thrill of expectation through him every time. He was frankly amazed at the sheer number of students who'd apparently fantasized about him in one way or another –- and this was merely a selection of the older students -– _just how many people in Hogwarts wished to fuck him?,_ he idly wondered during one of his more lucid moments - even the Headmaster had intimated as much.

Only a few of the volunteers so far stood out in his mind: Of course there was Sylvia, she'd been the first and he hadn't really known what to expect; she'd been a delightful surprise. Then there'd been the one who had remained silent the entire time, never taking her eyes from his face as she rode him _painfully slowly_ to release, seeming to relish the desperation on his features and the pitiful pleas she'd elicited from him; the one who spent nearly two hours with her legs wrapped around his head as he gleefully demonstrated how cunnilingus was _supposed _to be performed, making her entire body quake at least five times and leaving her so near exhausted that she was barely able to return the favour, and himself so rigid he was nearly in agony. He'd never before believed that a tongue could possibly get sprained, but after that, knew he'd never argue with someone who claimed it could.

Then after a seemingly interminable break, which left him thrashing and attempting to copulate with thin air, came Draco, and all fogginess in his head seemed to flee as he saw the boy, well, young man, he supposed now, approach the bed.

Draco was a different matter. Not only was Severus not remotely interested in carnal relations with members of the same sex, but he'd nearly watched the boy grow up. It seemed wrong on so many different levels. Yet he was immobilized, tied to the bed, and Draco could effectively do whatever he wanted to him.

"Draco…" his voice came out gravelly, hoarse from the day's activities and filled with both concern and warning.

"Hello, Professor Snape," came Draco's smooth greeting, as he sat down beside the professor. "I hear you've been having some troubles." His gaze travelled slowly over the potions master.

Perhaps he was only here to talk, thought Snape desperately, as he nodded in agreement.

"Have you been like that all morning?" inquired the boy.

"Yes," croaked Snape, his throat achingly dry.

"Here, let me get you some water." Draco rose and strode to the living quarters, retrieved a glass, filled it; returning and aiding the professor to sit, as much as possible, while raising the glass to his lips. Severus gulped down several grateful mouthfuls, before Draco slowly helped ease him back down to the pillows.

"It's been quite a few hours Professor, your muscles must be screaming by now."

"You've no idea," responded Severus, his mind starting to wander, but nowhere near as concerned as he had been when the boy had first appeared.

"I'll see what I can do about that," the blond-headed youth said, and at that moment, looking at him through slightly glazed eyes, the dim light of the room glinting off his fair hair, Severus thought him, quite possibly, an angel.

Though rather than producing his wand and incanting any type of soothing spell, he felt Draco beginning to unfasten his buttons _(again -– how many times now had that action been performed?)._ He undid them slowly, purposefully, and with great care, but without raising his eyes to his professor's.

"Draco," Severus managed, his thoughts beginning to float again, "what are you doing?" his voice quiet and inquiring rather than harsh or punishing.

"Don't worry, Professor," came the boy's voice, "just thought a good rub down might do the trick a little better." And with a wave of his wand, Draco summoned a stack of heated towels and what Snape could only imagine was massage oil.

"Oh," he said vaguely, his head falling back against the pillows.

Draco pushed the professor's clothing as far to the sides as it would go, then scowled. "Can't reach your arms or shoulders like this," he stated; then withdrew his wand and simply vanished all the clothes from his mentor.

Severus shivered, immensely aware he was now naked and spread before one of his students. Not that he hadn't been exposed to many of them before, it's just that, well, even though they hadn't been covering much, the remaining clothes helped him at least not feel quite so vulnerable.

Draco moved to the head of the bed, gradually uncurling the professor's fingers and splaying them apart. He summoned the warmed oil and tipped just a little into his palm, then set to work gently rubbing and massaging Severus' fingers, the back of his hand, and palm, raising little hairs across the back of the professor's neck.

Draco slowly worked his way down Snape's arm, rubbing the soreness from his muscles, garnering soft moans of appreciation from him. Slinging a leg across his teacher, he straddled his chest, and worked on the other side. Threading dexterous hands beneath Snape's neck, he began kneading the muscles there, feeling his professor relax and sink further into the pillows. He watched as Severus' eyes slowly closed, then quickly shed his robes and shirt.

He worked his way across the professor's shoulders then smiled as he began to smooth more oil down Snape's chest. Meanwhile, Snape's mind was adrift again, waves of pleasure beginning to wash over him at Draco's ministrations.

After several minutes of this attention, Snape became vaguely aware of his breathing beginning to speed up, his body starting to respond. His thinking was already too clouded for him to contemplate it much.

As he saw the professor's eyes open but begin to glaze over, a lopsided grin made its way across Draco's face, and he slicked up his own chest, leaning down and beginning to rub it over his professor's. It felt good, and so, so wrong. Severus had begun moaning, so he was obviously enjoying it, but having him in this state was wonderfully delicious. He began nibbling on Severus' neck, marking him as he went, knowing he'd never again be afforded such an opportunity.

Draco slowly pressed his lips against Snape's, savouring the feeling of dominance and the interesting sounds the professor was making; feeling the rise and fall of Snape's chest beneath him quickening.

He pushed his body forward over Snape's, gaining another groan from the potions master. He put his lips to his ear and whispered. "Do you want something more, Professor? I won't do anything you don't want, though I sincerely hope you do…" he trailed off, rubbing their chests together once more, heat building up between them.

"Mm," grunted Severus, head spinning, unable to form words, and only vaguely aware of who was speaking to him.

"Is that a yes?" the breath tickled across his ear again.

"Urm." Draco, unsure exactly what that sound intimated, merely said, "Okay, I'll take it slow. If you want me to stop, just say so, right?" pretty sure that the power of speech had abandoned his professor, but also fairly certain he could pick up any signs of resistance.

The next grunt that came from the professor, Draco took as assent, sliding further up, where he teased one of Snape's middle fingers into his mouth, and began to slowly fellate it, bobbing his head up and down with relish, making soft sighs around the digit, and twirling his tongue expertly between his fingers.

Snape groaned again and his hips snapped up, catching Draco unawares.

"Hmm, eager for more already, Professor?" he inquired, not really expecting an answer. He shifted his position from the professor, feet landing on the floor as he rose to remove his own trousers, shoes and socks; the lack of stimulation drawing a whimper of protest from the bed. Draco smiled widely. This was going so much more smoothly than he'd imagined. Of course, in his dreams, it was always the professor seducing him, but he knew that wasn't realistic, and was more than happy to change the dynamic for a chance at the real thing. He quickly shed the remainder of his clothes, then realigned himself of the bed, this time his body mostly between the professor's legs.

Severus was already hard. Draco admired the view for a moment, then eyed it critically. "You know, Professor, you could do with some grooming down here."

A small whine came from above.

"Don't worry, sir, I use this one all the time on myself –- keeps things nice and neat. It's nearly painless."

Another whimper as Draco summoned his wand and incanted a hair removing charm, delicately tracing his wand along the path he wanted to tidy, making sure to take no more than necessary in order to leave a nice looking trim, then he lowered it down across Severus' balls, effectively clearing them.

"Much better," breathed Draco. "Sometimes can sting a bit if you're not used to it, but usually not too badly. You alright?" he asked, lightly tonguing the newly shorn scrotum, slowly alternating sucking each side into his mouth.

Severus opened his mouth gulping down lungfuls of air, head reeling at the sensation. His hips bucked again.

"Can't be too bad then," smiled Draco, continuing his work and setting aside his wand for the time-being.

Severus' already engorged cock twitched, pre-cum beginning to form at the head. "Should I see to that too, then?" he asked of the still-panting professor.

"Yes? Maybe?" he watched it twitch again. "I'll take that as a yes," he said, eyes still on Snape's heavily-lidded, intently-breathing visage. He gave the balls one last memorable suck, then twisted himself around, so that he hovered above the professor in a classic 69 position. His own cock dangled just millimetres away from Snape's mouth, but he made no effort to press it further, instead focusing on drawing the professor slowly into his.

Severus gasped as he felt the hot, wet suction of Draco's mouth, his open lips then feeling the vague tickling sensation of cock brushing across them.

"I know you've never done this before, Professor," Draco stated, momentarily drawing back from his attentions, "no pressure, Sir, you don't have to reciprocate; just lay back and enjoy." And Draco dove back to his work with an enthusiasm second-to-none.

Severus' bones seemed to melt away, and a chorus of moans and gasps escaped his lips. Draco nearly brought him off, but stilled when it seemed that the professor was close.

The stimulation halted, what there was of Snape's brain rebelled, wishing the pleasant sensations to return. Snape flicked out his tongue experimentally, catching Draco by surprise. He inhaled sharply, blinking rapidly and gasped, "That … that … was _nice_, Professor! Did … did ... you actually want to try that? Sucking me, that is?"

His answer came as Snape dreamily opened his mouth, allowing the boy to slip between his lips.

Now it was Draco's turn to gasp. Snape was nowhere near experienced, but the sheer fact that his potions master, his Head of House, was now sucking his cock, was enough to nearly send Draco over the edge. His hands gripped fistfuls of sheet, and he bit down on his bottom lip; he had to use all the willpower he had not to simply start fucking Snape's mouth. Meanwhile, Snape's thoughts idly paused to flit over the notion of how unexpectedly nice it felt to have something hard and throbbing in his mouth. He sucked experimentally and was pleased by the sounds it brought forth. He flicked his tongue lazily around the protuberance and listened satisfactorily to the gasps and panting of its owner.

"Sir.. sir.., " came Draco's breathless tones, "Not that I'm not enjoying this –- I... I am, entirely too much, in fact. Thing is, sir… I would really like to come… riding you. Is that okay?" He withdrew his cock from his potions-master's mouth and looked down between his arms and legs for any sign of a reply.

Severus' hips bucked into the air again, nearly hitting Draco in the chin.

Draco moved himself around again, this time straddling his teacher's hips, facing him.

"Is that okay, Sir?" he inquired again, adding "I quite like it. It's somewhat similar to fucking a woman, but tighter, silkier, and of course, you can usually go deeper. I've had experience with both. Can I try it with you, Sir? It would utterly make my day if you said yes," he said, somewhat shyly.

"Whatever you want…" mumbled the instructor, heady with need, not really sure who or what he was talking to.

Draco's face lit up like it was glowing from within. He edged his way back, once again pouring liberal amounts of oil into his hands and reaching to slick both the professor's impressive erection, as well as along his own arse, playfully dipping his fingers in and out as he prepared himself, wringing moans from his own lips as he imagined what he was about to do.

Summoning a towel, he wiped the oil from his hands, braced one against Snape's chest, the other firmly holding on to the root of the Head of Slytherin's cock. "Please Sir, don't do that thing with your hips just yet, if you can help it," he said slowly inching onto the hardness below him, knowing it would hurt a bit if he did, but wondering if it wouldn't be worth it all the same.

The part of Snape's brain that was still listening made him growl, but attempted to keep his hips still, as he felt the silky, warm tightness of Draco descend tantalizingly slowly around him. Another growl escaped from Snape as Draco stilled, adjusting to both the fact and the thought of his mentor inside him.

"Just a second…just a second," he whispered, eyes closed.

Bits of consciousness returned just in time for Severus to open his eyes and watch Draco begin to ride him. Still not entirely 'there', he watched through half-lidded eyes as Draco pumped up and down atop him, his fingers lightly grazing Snape's sternum as he sometimes caught himself, wringing wondrous sensations from throughout Snape's entire body. Snape's hips bucked again, catching Draco in mid-stride, causing him to lose his rhythm and nearly his balance. He placed a steadying had on Severus' shoulder, softly crooning, "Shh.. shhh… let me, let me," as he regained his tempo, and adjusted his position so that the older man now brushed up against his prostrate. A shudder ran through Draco, which Severus, absently watching, thought gorgeous. His eyes danced across Draco's pale skin, his arms, chest and that frankly beautiful face, Draco's eyes now closed in both pleasure and concentration.

Severus felt his muscles tensing up, as must've Draco, as the boy suddenly picked up the pace, unwilling to be the last to the finish line. He watched the potions master's face begin to contort just as he himself stopped breathing, groaned and came all over Severus' chest. A few deliberately hard thrusts more had the professor coming inside him, quite strongly it would seem, as he seemed determined to bring his torso up, despite the bindings. The professor saw stars, some lightning and briefly, the sorting hat, though _why_, he was too out of his mind to question.

Draco sagged against his professor, reaching a hand out for a towel to clean them both off with, then merely panting to to regain his breath and will some strength back into his limbs.

Beneath him, he felt Severus relax and grow heavy, his eyes closing all the way, breathing steadying to a slow rhythmic tempo. He was asleep.

Draco smiled to himself - he'd worn the professor out. _Not_, he thought to himself, _that he hadn't had plenty of help from those that had been there previously._ But he liked, just for the moment, to pretend it had been all his doing.

He rose, gradually disengaging, and wiping the two of them clean. Finding his wand and incanting the cleansing spell, he finished cleaning up the bed, the professor and himself, righted everything that had been knocked askew, then let his gaze rest upon the now, literally, shagged out, Snape. He felt too guilty to try to re-dress the reclining figure, and instead pulled the covers up over him, tucking him in nicely.

He then made his way into the professor's other quarters, liberating a small empty vial as he went, then holding his wand to his head, pulled the whispery silver thread of memory from it and encapsulated it within. If Dumbledore was going to blank his memories, let him, but he'd be damned if he wasn't going to retain something for the pensieve.

* * *

><p>Task completed, he grabbed hold of the port-key and returned to the Room of Requirement, to, as had become common, a round of applause. He blushed a little, as he'd been the first boy to go, and strode over to the slowly filling ledger.<p>

He wrote:

_ The Snape is currently exhausted and sleeping, I suggest we let him kip a bit as we've been working the poor man pretty hard._

_ He looks a bit chafed –- perhaps Madam Pomfrey should take a look._

_ Did not re-dress him, as did not want to disturb him; if you're keen to rip his clothes off, wait until he's awake to rectify the problem._

_ He's not actually inclined our way fellas, sorry to report, but if you take it slow, you can bring him to a point where he's willing to experiment widely. Can be very nice, regardless._

_ And his bollocks are now completely clean-shaven; you're welcome. – DM_

Afterwards, he walked over to relay to Dumbledore the information regarding Snape's current state of exhaustion, proposing and being granted permission to go fetch Madam Pomfrey.

As the medi-witch arrived, she and Dumbledore exchanged pleasantries then Dumbledore made his excuses to the assembled students, saying he had several days worth of work to catch up on, and told them he'd be leaving Poppy in charge for the time being.

Poppy seemed to agree that Snape should be left alone to rest for a while before she went to check on him. Noting that he would require some nourishment soon as well, and beginning to look up spells on the matter.

* * *

><p>At the back of the room, Sylvia and some of the other students recently returned from Snape's quarters gathered, whispering and smiling amongst one another.<p>

"I think it should look something like this," she said quickly jotting down a design on her paper: flourishing capital cursive letters, all interlinked, spelling nothing in particular, simply "_IFSS" _and one line beneath that, interlinked with the letters above, _"ROC"._

"I think silver would be nice, don't you?" she asked, as several of the assembled tittered, having worked out the first acronym to their liking.

"What's this then?" asked Draco, striding over, abandoning the small group of other boys he'd been chatting with.

Sylvia smiled warmly. She hadn't really liked Draco, but now, well, things seemed different; they shared a common secret.

"We were designing some sort of jewellery for those of us returning to wear. Since we won't be able to keep our memories, we figured why not keep a memento, even if we don't know what it means?

"The Room of Requirement, could provide us with however much silver we need to transfigure it into necklaces, bracelets, lapel pins," she looked at Draco, smiled and continued raising an eyebrow "…cuff-links, tie tacks…"

"Hm," he grinned, "let me see that," and he pulled the paper over to him, then chuckled and said. "IFSS, for _'I Fucked Severus Snape'_, very cute…"

"Actually," she cut in, "I more fancied, _'I Fucked Snape Senseless'_, but I suppose you could use either one."

"Ooh, that _is _better," he crooned," but what is the ROC? I don't get it."

She grinned, "That was Sally's idea," she said gesturing to a small blonde on her right, "based on what Dumbledore said; it stands for _'Roman Orgy Club'." _There were stifled snickers all around as everyone fought not to gain the attention of Madam Pomfrey.

"I like it," said Malfoy, "pity that you won't remember what it stands for afterwards, though I may have a solution to that," he said pulling the vial discreetly from his coat.

The assembled students stared, then gaping; one asked, "You know how to _do_ that?"

"Can you teach us?" another clamoured.

Draco slowly nodded, smiling, "I think I'll need someplace private, along with several stoppered vials," he said under his breath; and suddenly they all noticed a very unobtrusive spot, just behind several bookcases, conveniently lined with sparkling glass vials.

A muffled cheer rose up from the group. Madam Pomfrey glanced over briefly, but upon seeing Malfoy standing with them, assumed he must be regaling them with tales of his recent exploits, and continued her research into nourishing spells.


	4. Chapter 4

Madam Pomfrey had been taking all the events of the past days in amazingly good stride. While originally horrified when Dumbledore had first brought in the unconscious girl and said she'd been attacked; once the nature of it had been revealed, the girl further sedated and examined to find no physical damage and assured that she remembered none of it, she'd calmed down, and even came to feel a _little_ sorry for Severus Snape, especially when Dumbledore described Snape's emotional turmoil as he'd been trying to stop himself.

Severus was not her favourite amongst the staff, not by a long shot, but even she didn't think he deserved the guilt that this curse had put upon him.

When Draco had come to fetch her, she'd left her charge in the care of a house-elf, with instructions to come and find her when the girl awoke. She'd been dosed pretty heavily with a sleeping draught, so it would be a while even as things stood.

As the evening wore on, she noticed some beds appearing as students began to get sleepy, and she even lay down for a short nap, herself. She awoke hours later, realizing that she'd slept far past when she'd meant to, and that it was time to go see to Severus.

Most of the students asleep, and some of the others apparently practising spells, she grabbed the port-key and arrived in his quarters.

* * *

><p>Snape had been thrashing a bit even in his sleep, and had managed to knock the covers down to his hips, where he was suspiciously sticky. Very sticky. Apparently even as his body rested, his mind did not; or perhaps it was the other way around. She pressed her lips into a thin line, so as not to smirk, and shook her head resignedly as she gathered supplies to help clean him up.<p>

A warm cloth being rubbed across his stomach, then down over his bits, roused him blissfully from his dreams. He slowly drew open his eyes, saw the medi-witch there, attempted to blush briefly, decided it was pointless at this juncture, and gave it up.

"Hello, Poppy," he said quietly, his voice nearly a purr, making her jump as she realized he'd awakened. She cleared her throat and tried to sound very clinical as she finished cleaning him up.

"Hello, Severus. It's time you had a check-up, your body has been under no small amount of strain, and it's time I try and get some carbs into you as well, not to mention protein and hydration."

His cock had already bobbed hello to her as the cloth had made its introductions. Not able to ignore it, Poppy merely observed, "You're chafed; they said you might be. Let me see to that." One spell later had his ego looking brand new.

"I've been researching spells on nutrition, and I think I've got the knack of it, so just lay back and hold still and I should be able to fill your stomach with whatever it is your body requires." She held up her wand ready to incant.

"You could just feed me," he stated bluntly.

"Yes, I suppose I could," she responded. "What is it that you would like to have?" she whipped out a notebook and quill, ready to take an order.

"Bananas," he started, as she scribbled, "…strawberries," she jotted more notes, "chocolate…" her quill moved over the pad,"…oysters…" Suddenly she looked up from her notepad and swatted him in the leg. "Severus!" she complained.

"What?" he asked innocently, blinking, then groaned as the familiar tug of need caught in his stomach. _For Merlin's sake_, he thought_, I've only just woken up!_

"Are you alright, Severus?" she asked.

"No," he groaned. "I think it's best if you just get on with it." He closed his eyes, concentrating. She sank down next to him on the bed, concerned, and ready to take his temperature as she noted his lips moving soundlessly. She felt her seat shift toward him once, twice…, before she again swatted him in the leg, this time hard enough to bruise. "Severus! You do that one more time and I'll muffle you!"

"_Accio_…" he began, barely audible, but we'll never know exactly what it was he was trying summon as Poppy's _Silencio _hit him just then.

She strode over to his desk, snatched up his wand and held onto it, directing her own at him. "Obviously, you are not to be trusted in this state!"

He merely lifted his head and waggled his eyebrows at her endearingly.

"I know you can't help it, but _REALLY_, Severus!"

This time he merely looked at her as if to say, "I told you so," and lay his head back against his pillows again, perspiration starting to form again on his brow. He blew out a long deep breath, angling it toward his quickly flushing face.

"Yes," she conceded, "I see what you mean. I _had_ best get on with it." And with that she cast a number of spells all meant to improve his health and vigour, nourish and hydrate him.

"I'll be off now," she announced, heading toward the port-key. "Goodbye, Severus."

He looked at her imploringly.

"I'm _**not**_ giving you your wand back."

He blinked.

"Fine. _Finite incantatum,"_ she announced, pointing her wand at his lips, lifting the _Silencio _from him, before vanishing with the port-key.

* * *

><p>The next to arrive was a beauty from Slytherin, one of the very few who had ever even roused the vaguest of interest in him. Her hair, perfectly coiffed, was black, pulled back from her neck and left cascading down her back. Long fingernails flecked with sparkling green polish held her wand. The other hand set down a small duffel beside her.<p>

She strode purposefully toward him, the click of high heels on bare stone, eyes drawing in everything, lingering unabashedly on him.

She licked her lips, eyes sparkling mischievously. "Oh Professor, what _have_ you done?" she intoned, somewhat mockingly as she walked around his bed.

"You've been naughty, haven't you?" she looked at him, with both concern and sternness playing across her features.

_Good lord, this was going to be even better than his best fantasies._ _Here was one who had that devious streak he loved; but he never, in his wildest dreams, believed one of them would indulge him so. He was learning a lot these last two days…_ He nodded, huffing and pulling at his binds.

He'd seen her in class, in the hallways, with her friends -– her normal element. He knew she was playing a role, but it was one she liked, and she played it marvellously well.

This had been a fantasy of hers? Very well then, he wasn't going to let her down.

"Your eyes, Professor, they're staring," she scolded.

Well of course they were staring, was she in fact, wearing anything beneath those robes? There was no way to hide his arousal -– he was already tenting the sheet that lay very precariously across his hips.

She glanced at it, then with mock outrage cried, "Professor!" her eyes widening at him.

Smiling, she sank down on the bed next to him, abandoning the pretext for a moment.

"You'd like me to take care of that, wouldn't you?" she asked.

"P…please," he stuttered, still unable to keep his eyes off of her.

"You've an idea by now what kind of games I like to play. Are you amenable to that?"

"By all means, yes," he breathed.

"I can get rough; in fact one of my more frequent fantasies involving you is very rough indeed. How far are you willing to go?"

He closed his eyes, "As far as you like…"

She pressed the tip of her wand against his lips, effectively cutting him off. "You may address me as Madam, or Ma'am, is that clear?"

"Yes Ma'am," _Oh dear lord, this was actually happening!_

"Since I don't believe you really have any idea how far I may like to take things, I'm going to give you a safeword, do you know what one is?" she inquired.

"Yes," he breathed.

"Yes, who?"

"Yes, Ma'am," his cock pulsed.

"Explain it to me," she demanded.

"Yes, Ma'am. A safeword is a code word for 'stop' used in edge play when the actual word, 'stop', may be used, but not when one actually wants the experience to end."

"That was long-winded, but yes, essentially, you've got it. Do you know what your safeword is going to be, Professor Snape?"

"No, Ma'am."

"Stop," she smiled, leaning in, her breath whispering across his ear, "if you say it, if you breathe it, if you even think it; I will stop. Makes it just that much more difficult to beg out, doesn't it? You don't get to say it unless you really, truly want it to stop. That way, you must either ask me to stop and end all the fun, or admit to yourself that you actually like what I'm doing to you." Her smile was wicked.

"You are evil, Ma'am," he panted, head spinning.

"Yes, yes I am," she confirmed, rising to her feet once more. "Now," she said, grabbing the sheet, "let's get a good look at my toy…" and with a flick of her wrist she had him uncovered, showing in all his glory.

He writhed beneath her stare, his heart racing.

Her eyes lingered on his neck, shoulders, collarbone and chest.

"You've been marked, _repeatedly." _She stated.

He hadn't quite realized he had. He attempted to look down at his chest, but most of the marks were out of his range.

She reached into her bag for a moment, "Slut." He felt the soft leathery tip of a riding crop flittering over his cheek, it lingered on his lips.

"Kiss it," she commanded, which he did, eagerly.

She trailed it down across his chest, leaving gooseflesh rising behind it, then brought it down hard across his nipple.

"Bad!" she admonished, "Such a hedonistic slut, aren't you? You've enjoyed being used?" Her tone was warning, but he slowly nodded, feigning shame.

She struck the other nipple this time, making it sting. He drew in a sharp breath of air, his head snapping back against the pillow.

"Well, I'm certainly not going to mark you in the same place as all the others who have claimed you. Wait." She dug down through her duffel once more, coming up dangling some beautiful leather shackles from her fingertip.

She crawled up over him, looking to affix one to each of his magically bound wrists. Her robes fell open as she did so, her body rubbing against his. _No, no, she wasn't wearing anything underneath. Fates help him._

He groaned and thrust upward.

She looked at him sternly, admonishing threateningly, "**No!**" in a tone of voice that left him quivering from head to toe.

"Sorry, Ma'am," he managed.

"I'm going to release your binds for just a moment, to put these on you. If you expect me to stay to…" she cocked her head to the right, "…_play_ with you, you mustn't try anything. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Ma'am… I, uh, I think it may be dangerous to release me at all… I wouldn't want you to get hurt…" his voice was soft. Something was bothering him; she could see it behind his eyes.

"Something to do with the curse?" she asked.

He simply nodded.

"Then how do you suggest we proceed, slut? I would like to turn you over."

"If you're quick, a full-body bind, though doing so before I'm completely untied would be very painful, and I can't recommend it, because I have no idea how fast I might be able to move. Another possibility is to cross the magical bindings and reattach them to the opposite side." He'd forgotten to use her honorary title, but given they were talking logistics, she let it pass.

"I have an idea," she said, clicking her wand thoughtfully against her mouth, "and it's wicked. You can probably overcome it if you put your mind to it though. Do you think you can manage not to fight it?"

"I have no idea," he admitted, "but if it takes thought, then it is very doubtful I could manage much resistance." His body was rebelling again, and he arched and moaned a second time.

She sat for a while, watching him as he grew more and more desperate.

"I think that should about do it," she mused as he reduced himself to pulling, arching and pleading with her to do something, _anything!_

She stood, produced her wand, levelled it at him and cried "_Imperio!"_ Suddenly all his struggles ceased, his eyes glazed over, and he lay still, trying to catch his breath.

"Oh very nice!" She purred. "Are you fighting it Severus?"

"No," came the simple answer.

A whack of her riding crop echoed off his chest. "No, who?"

"No, Ma'am."

"I'm going to let you up now, Severus, it's been quite a while, why don't you go use the facilities?" she suggested, as she quickly dissolved his magical bindings.

"Yes, Ma'am, thank you Ma'am." He sat up for the first time since this madness had all begun, his muscles aching, joints groaning, and stretched briefly before standing to go carry out her orders. She gave him a few moments of privacy then followed him in.

"I think I'd like to see you in the shower, Professor, why don't you turn on the water, nice and warm and step in where I can see you?" He did exactly as he was told. She watched the water run in rivulets down his body, making him relax visibly.

"Soap up, slut," she smiled at him, "but do it in a way that feels good to you." She put the lid down on the toilet and perched there as he lathered himself up, slowly moving his hands across his body, down his stomach, across his penis and over his balls, cupping them, sighing and closing his eyes.

"Very nice," she murmured to him. "When you're ready, I'd like to see you stroke yourself off. Will you do that for me?"

"Yes Ma'am," he breathed, eager to please, his thoughts pleasantly cloudy.

She watched him lean back against the shower wall, gather up more lather and begin to work his cock through his fist. She heard pleasant moans and growls escaping from his lips.

"Who are you thinking about, Severus?"

He stopped for a moment, blinking. "I…I don't know, Ma'am…I was just enjoying the sensation."

"Keep going," she instructed, "but now I want you to think about me as you do."

He nodded, eyes closed again, head lolling against the shower wall, hand slipping eagerly over his privates. The moans grew louder.

She shifted in her seat knowing that he couldn't be faking his pleasure at the image he now held in his mind. This was beginning to be a real turn on, not just a practice in dominance.

He began to rock his hips against his hand, always using one to slide down over his balls while the other massaged his cock. His lips parted and his breathing came harder. His head began to thrash from side to side. His thrusts became erratic then she saw him spurt, gloriously, all over the shower stall, himself, and his hand. He relaxed against the wall, spent.

She rose, walked to the side of the shower, angled the spray toward him and washed him down. Flicking off the taps, she draped a fluffy towel across his shoulders and led him out of the enclosure.

"Stand still," she commanded, drying him off, enjoying the feel of every bit of him beneath her hands. _She could really grow to like this._

"Back to bed now," she instructed. "Lie on your stomach, move the pillow and lie face down, arms together directly above your head, and legs together."

She watched him gleefully as he fulfilled his task. She swept in close to him, scooping up the abandoned cuffs, and wrapping them around his wrists, lacking rope, and mentally scolding herself for the oversight, she had to make do with magical restraint again, but even just the addition of the cuffs made him look so much more… vulnerable. She licked her lips once more, before tethering his ankles in the same way.

She climbed up and straddled the small of his back. "Was that good for you, Professor?" she asked.

"Immensely, Ma'am."

She liked this Snape who couldn't lie to her, but she knew her little dalliance with Unforgivables must come to an end. "Good," she smiled _"Finite."_ She waved her wand toward his head, and he shook it, as if just waking up.

"You…you... " he started, wondering if he should be outraged or grateful, "you are indeed a wicked woman, Ma'am," he finished.

"You _liked_ it!" she purred in his ear grinning, taking a small nip.

"Yes, yes, I suppose I did." _*thwack* _"Ma'am."

"I'm going to mark you now, are you ready?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Do you remember your safeword?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"What is it?"

"Stop, Ma'am."

"Oh, well if you _insist_," she said playfully, going to dismount him.

"No, Ma'am, I mean, please Ma'am. I was only repeating it, Ma'am. Please don't stop."

She chuckled at his desperation, climbing back onto him.

"I was teasing."

"That was cruel, Ma'am," he said, half grinning.

He felt her lean back down over him, her robe splaying to either side, warm body pressed against his back. Her lips nibbled behind his ear, dropping to the back of his neck as she sucked there, then the back of his shoulders, leaving marks everywhere she went.

"Now for my signature," she grinned.

He felt her nails bite into the soft flesh of his back, trailing down his spine, from his shoulders to where she perched, right above his buttocks, leaving bright red scratches in their wake. He gulped in a fresh lungful of air as his body jittered underneath her.

"No begging me to stop, good boy!" She placed another kiss in the middle of his back. "Now tell me slut, _who _do you belong to?"

"You, Ma'am. I belong to you," he panted, out of breath.

"Good. Now let's turn you over again." This time was much easier as his limbs weren't spread across the bed; she simply rolled him over. His breath caught once as the sheets pressed against his stinging back, but that was all.

"Now I just have to bring you to a boil again," she said, crossing her legs and staring at him.

"No, no? Please? Please don't do that to me," he begged, _*thwack*_ "Please Ma'am? Don't."

"Afraid I must, Professor, if I'm going to get the ride I'm looking for," her grin was absolutely immoral. "Besides which, I like the look of you when you're going out of your mind. It's quite sexy, you know."

A look of desperation followed by a few tears which he fought back, made her give in somewhat.

"Okay, I'll tell you what, I won't let you get as desperate as last time before I give you some relief, but I _do_ want to see a little of that before we start.

"Th..thank you," he groaned. It didn't sound like it would be long before she got what she wanted.


	5. Chapter 5

Waiting for him to renew his struggles was beginning to get boring. _Maybe he was trying to hold himself in check?_ But there seemed no reason to do that_. Perhaps he was just able to go longer now in between._ She frowned, not a good sign for the rest of them, if true. Still, his cock was nice and hard, pity to let it sit there by itself, all lonely.

She scooted up the sheets, lay her head on his thigh, and watched it twitch. She pursed her lips together and blew lightly on it, making it jerk again. She chuckled softly to herself, as she continued to make it dance for her.

Oh, the groans were starting to come in earnest now. _Yes!_ She smiled and her heart did a little jig. Urging him on, she popped her mouth suddenly onto his prick, sucked deeply once, and popped back off, leaving him bucking his hips, with nothing to rut against.

His breathing was getting laboured and he was starting to twist on the bed. _He really did look beautiful like this,_ she thought, gazing at him as he struggled. Ah well, she _had_ promised.

He'd just been on the verge of pleading with her, when one of her hands came down upon his hip, pressing him into the bed. She swung a leg up over him, high heels flashing past, and she let her robe gape open as she settled herself right above his cock.

"Ready to give me the ride of my life?" she smirked.

"Yes… yes…yes," _he was practically begging already. Perhaps her timing was better than she thought._

"Alright then, here's how this is going to work: I'm going to lower myself, _just a little bit, _onto you. _You_ will control yourself and not move while I do this. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Ma'am," he huffed, struggling to control himself.

She smiled, "_Then_ I'm going to cast a _little _spell on you. You shall continue to stay still while I do this. Yes?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"After that, I'll hold still while you lift your hips and try your best to give me the fucking of a lifetime," her wicked grin had returned. "I'm not going to do all the work here. I may be astride you, Professor, but it's your body that needs mine, thus you're going to work for it. I've already seen what those hips of yours can do; I have no doubt that you'll be able to fulfil my demands."

He groaned.

"If it seems like you need a little inspiration, I'll use this," she showed him her wand. "I _had_ thought that _Crucio_ might be effective, as it does tend to force the pelvis upward while you double yourself in half…"

A look of sheer terror crossed his face, she noted it and continued, "But I've heard it can be _extremely painful,_" here he nodded earnestly, having been the unwilling recipient of it more than once at Voldemort's hands, "and most likely too painful to be much fun, so I nixed that idea." His face relaxed and he closed his eyes briefly.

"But still, I think if I give you a little jolt," she pressed her wand against his side releasing a mild shock of electricity through it; his hips bucked up against her in the most pleasing manner, "that that might be enough, not that I _want _to do that. I'd prefer if you didn't need it." she finished, thoroughly pleased with herself.

_The look of sadistic glee on her face belied her insistence that she didn't want to perform that deed - clearly she did,_ he thought. _And he was powerless to do anything but agree._ Correcting himself, he thought, _not entirely powerless, but who wanted to say 'no' to this?_

He fought to still his hips, which had been bucking toward her ever since she shot that first little shock through him. She'd raised herself tantalizingly out of his cock's reach. She grinned as he stilled himself, lowering back down, hovering above him.

"Ready?" she asked.

"Oh, yes, Ma'am," he agreed.

His eyes closed involuntarily as he felt her slide oh-so-slowly onto the tip of his cock. She rested, taking no more of him inside her. His eyes blinked open and he concentrated with all his might not to move. She'd told him this was coming, but _good lord, _this was difficult. Dewy beads of sweat were beginning to form again with the effort of keeping himself still.

He focused his attention on her: robes open to each side; pert breasts and flat stomach; beautiful hands with long, evil fingernails; the sly grin on her face. _Marry me_, he thought wildly.

She aimed her wand at the exposed flesh of his cock and cried, _"Engorgio, paululum!"_ while sinking down quickly upon it, her face a study in delight as she felt it filling her up. Severus groaned as he grew thicker and began stretching her. They both looked a little worried for a moment, as neither of them knew exactly how large this would make him, but the growth stopped before it became problematic.

She wiggled around on his cock, enjoying the new sensations, before lifting herself up again and declaring, "Your turn, slut! _Make me come_," she growled the last command, making it sounded like a challenge.

He finally let go of his control, as tenuous as it had been, and his hips snapped up wildly to bury himself in her, repeatedly. She leaned her head back, breathing deeply, as he worked her.

It was clearly a workout for him, his breath coming in ragged draws; but he continued his assault, his body having found a willing and blissfully tight orifice, it was not going to abandon it, no matter what type of gymnastics it would require. His only sounds consisted of grunts and the occasional moan as he worked to satisfy them both.

Fifteen minutes in, his body began to falter, and though she'd enjoyed herself so far, she was beginning to want some more naughty play. She prodded his side with her wand, watching happily as the jolt sent his hips flying up once again, drawing a gasp from him.

_This was nice._ She shocked him twice more before leaning down over him, allowing him to slip more deeply inside of her without thrusting, her hips sliding back and forth over his length. A few more prods and shocked gasps more let her feel just how much power she held over him, and she felt herself beginning to give way.

"Fuck me, Severus!" she growled in his ear, tossing aside her wand as she lay across him, gripping the tops of his shoulders. Newly invigorated, his hips smashed into her, rocking her body forward as they made contact, penetrating her deeply. He saw her bite her lip, draw in her breath and begin to tighten even further around him. His pace grew wild, and he pummelled her non-stop, barely stopping for breath, himself.

She cried out, face twisted into a mask of pleasure, muscles straining against him, as she pulsed around him. Moments later, her body collapsed across his, her whispered words of "Come on Professor, come for me!" breathed into his ear, sending him over the edge, as one more fantastic thrust sent him quivering and juttering inside of her.

They lay, spent and exhausted. Her body draped across his. _"Finite", _she whispered, ending the engorgement spell and allowing them to slip apart more easily.

"Thank you, Professor," she grinned, "that was better than I had hoped."

He panted, eyes nearly rolled back in his head, incapable of speech. _Yes, marry me,_ he thought again weakly - not entirely sincerely, but not totally in jest either.

* * *

><p>She gathered up her accoutrements, cast the cleansing incantation, zipped up her duffel and ported back to the Room of Requirement, met not only with applause, but appreciative hoots and whistles, as she quickly noticed she'd left her robes undone, and rectified the problem without so much as a blush.<p>

She put down her bag and wrote in the journal:

_ May have broken him, sorry! Poppy should probably make sure he hasn't sprained anything._

_ He'll need a good, long, rest; he really went through all the paces today._

_ His recuperation time is starting to lengthen, but a little teasing seems to bring him back around fairly quickly._

_ I love all the beautiful bite marks you've left on him. The claw marks are mine. Let's leave them there, shall we? Please Poppy? Can we leave them at least until Monday morning? I'd love to see him try to figure out how they got there._

Madam Pomfrey, along with the rest of the students, had moved in to read her comments as soon as she had finished, and smirked a little at the last one. "Perhaps," she said firmly, thinking a bewildered Severus might indeed be funny to watch.

She then went to retrieve her bag and ported down to see to Severus once more.

* * *

><p>This time she brought him some water and some actual food (making certain none of it was phallic in nature), said some healing spells for his strained muscles, and gently tucked him back into the bed, watching as he drifted off to sleep almost immediately.<p>

Porting back upstairs, she recommended rest for the Professor, denying any further access to him until he'd had a 'good eight hours'.

She thought there would be more objections to her moratorium, but the students took it in stride, forming up to practice transmuting silver into various forms of jewellery and giggling amongst themselves. Certain other students were being tutored by Draco on some subject of interest.

_Good for them_, she thought, _at least they weren't wasting their time and were applying themselves to their lessons._


	6. Chapter 6

Severus woke up, unsure of how long he'd rested, covered in his own come, again. It was a bit embarrassing knowing Poppy would once again have to clean up his emissions. He hoped to Merlin her memories of this whole event would be modified too. Having to look the medi-witch in the face and always wonder why she was smirking at him would irk him to no end.

They must've let him rest longer than he needed as his concentration was already wavering. He wished they'd stop doing that! He'd much rather be fucked to death than have to deal with the torture of not being touched. He rolled over onto his side, attempting to _Accio_ a pillow to his hips to roll on top of and perhaps relieve some of his frustration, but he just managed to have them come flying at him and, unable to catch them, pummel him in the face. This was _not_ a good morning. He sighed.

* * *

><p>Upstairs, nearly all of the students had finished their club jewellery, even those of whom had not yet managed to make it downstairs had created some in anticipation of the event. They were having a brief show to display their work. Some had been quite creative; not only were there necklaces, bracelets, pins, tie tacks and cuff-links; but hairpins, earrings, finger rings, pendants, belly button piercings, toe rings and anklets, some extremely intricate, others much more simple and bold-faced. Even one of the more daring girls had managed to adhere a thin layer of the silver directly to her skin, in a winding tattoo sleeve of sorts.<p>

There were only a handful of students who hadn't gone yet. Three of the boys, Kei, Druce, and Alban, feeling rather hesitant despite Draco's glowing recommendations, and two of the girls, Ella and Devi. After showing off their own, and admiring the works of others, they clustered around each other, all fairly nervous despite the many stories and ledger entries.

"I know it sounds weird, but I wish I had someone to go with me," whispered Devi, "I mean, a fantasy's a fantasy, but he still kind of scares me in person."

"Draco said he's usually pretty out of his head, I don't think he's in any mindset to be bitingly snarky," replied Alban.

A round of whispered comments ensued:

"The ledger says he bites."

"I like biting," snickered one of the boys.

"Fine you go get bitten, while I work on his other parts," Ella giggled.

Suddenly there was silence around their little group as they all eyed one another.

"You think?" asked one.

They all looked at Poppy, still engaged in her work.

Devi shrugged, and made her way over to the medi-witch, Ella in tow.

"Poppy? Would it be okay if we went and took care of him? I know you usually go clean him up and feed him and whatnot, but you look busy, we're kind of bored, and we'd be happy to do it."

Poppy surveyed the two girls standing closest to her, looked somewhat relieved and nodded.

"Just be certain you hit him with a _Silencio_ as soon as you get there. He's quite devious, don't let him fool you. He'll probably need some more cleaning up, I hope you don't mind."

They shook their heads.

"Well you two may have the makings of medi-witches yet," she complimented them, "and of course, you'll have to feed him. You can summon some food from the kitchens. There's a nourishing spell, but it's a bit tricky. Let me know if he seems to need more than the food allows for and I'll come take care of it." She bent back down to her work, "take the port-key dears."

The first girl looked back over her shoulder, smiling. The port-key lay behind her on the ledger stand.

All five of them discreetly gathered around the book.

"I can't believe we're doing this," chuckled one.

"Why not?" giggled another, as quietly as possible, "I mean we _are_ part of the _ROC!_"

"Not to mention, they said he's starting to take longer to recover. He might be cured before all of us get to him. That would be sad."

"Sad indeed," chimed Druce, speaking up for the first time.

Hesitantly, they all brought their hands toward the feather, touching it together.

A brief whoosh and they all stood in his quarters, the feather dropping to his desk.

The few who had seen them all depart stood in gape-mouthed awe, then began chattering to each other, trying earnestly not to alert Madam Pomfrey as to what had just occurred behind her back. The latest returnee seemed to think it _the best thing ever_ as she broke out in a fit of giggles at what was in store for the professor.

* * *

><p>They looked at each other incredulously for a moment before one asked, "Okay, now what?"<p>

Devi piped up, "Well, Poppy's under the impression we're here to clean him up and feed him, why don't we do that first, maybe it'll ease some of the tension?"

They all nodded, and slowly, hands clasped together, entered Snape's quarters.

They entered to see Snape apparently trying to smother himself in pillows, faint moans escaping from beneath the pile.

"What do you think he's doing?" came a whisper.

"I have no idea. Fetish maybe?" came the hushed reply.

"That gives me an idea…anyone still nervous?"

Most of the heads nodded. A wand was produced, _"Obscuro!"_

"Brilliant! Do you think it got him beneath all those pillows though?"

"Yes," came the muffled reply, "I can feel it. Now could you be so kind as to remove the pillows? It's getting rather stuffy under here." There was a pause, then, "Why can I hear so many of you?"

"Oh! Um…Poppy sent us. We're… we're supposed to help you get cleaned up, and feed you."

"Yet you felt you needed me blindfolded for that? Do I really terrify you all so much?"

"Yes," came the unanimous reply.

"Have all your fellow volunteers not returned unharmed?"

"Mostly," replied Ella.

A cold chill ran through him. Had he hurt someone? He searched his memory, but it was not at all intact.

"She means 'yes', replied a boy.

"Well, let's get to work shall we?"

Alban drew back the sheets. "Oh my Professor, how do you even _manage _that much?"

"I've been on overdrive," came the muffled reply. "Now, pillows, if you don't mind?"

Alban pointed his wand, _"Scourgify,_" effectively cleaning the professor up, but earning a muffled grunt of displeasure.

"Sorry, wasn't aware that that would hurt."

There was a pause then,"Pillows. Now."

"You sure are uppity for someone who's naked and bound, you know." Courage was seeping into his fellow conversationalist little by little. It was becoming infectious among the other students as they saw no curses flying his way for being so incredibly cheeky with Snape. Nevertheless, he removed the pillows one by one from Snape's face, revealing a very effectively blindfolded potions master.

A warm cloth rubbed down over his privates as Devi attended to the reddened area that the cleansing spell had left behind. He moaned with pleasure. She rinsed the cloth and continued up his body, passing it off as it got too far up for her to reach. Between all of them, they managed to scrub down his entire body quite effectively and somewhat erotically to boot.

Snape tried not to squirm, but it was difficult. "I, um, thought you were here to," he cleared his throat as one swipe felt particularly good, "clean me up and, um…" momentarily losing his train of thought, "feed me?" he inquired.

"That's true. Here, you," he could hear one of the boys addressing one of the others present, "Ella, you're small, why don't you scoot in behind him, so we can keep him a bit upright while we feed him?"

He heard a feminine chuckle followed by the swish of robes, then a warm body wiggling in behind his, just to the left of his bound arms. Naked breasts pressed into his back.

"Comfy?" she asked.

"You're… you're not here to feed me, are you?" he asked huskily, cock jumping to attention.

"Sure we are," came Kei's voice, a spoon pressing against his lips. "Just not entirely. Now eat."

* * *

><p>Cleaned, bathed and fed, Severus was feeling much better. The feeling of naked skin on his back and fingers tracing over his lips had his breathing doing double time, and he had more than a vague suspicion that things were going to get much more intense.<p>

"How many of you are there?" he inquired, voice shaky.

"Why don't you see if you can count," replied Druce, smiling.

Suddenly the professor felt hands all over his body, rubbing up and down his sides, his legs, a warm mouth pressed against his and, eliciting a small gasp, a very warm, welcoming mouth on his shaft. Someone was nibbling his ear, there were lips and teeth, biting and sucking along his neck. Fingertips tweaking his nipples, massaging his balls. Tongues, breasts, mouths, hands everywhere. He moaned, unable and frankly unwilling, to keep his focus. Bits of sentences, and lots of giggling, made it to his addled brain as he sank into the bliss of unadulterated sensation.

"My turn!"

"Do you think he'd go for that?"

He felt warmth envelop his cock, vaguely aware of someone riding him, someone else whispering _very naughty_ things into his ear.

"Here, get me out from behind him. I want that mouth."

Every bit of his body was being caressed, kissed. He felt fingers press into his mouth and he greedily sucked back. His mind was a jumble, nerve endings sending shocks of pleasure through him. He was vaguely aware of the cleansing spell being used on multiple occasions, but the slight pain it caused somehow translated into pleasure. Another mouth working his cock, a vague feeling of fingers pressing into him -– he was too transfixed to object, besides which, whoever was working them knew exactly what they were doing. He purred with pleasure, bucking up into the mouth fellating him. The smell of sex and the taste of juices as a young lady straddled him and allowed his tongue to dance within her. Later something warm and stiff within his mouth, he vaguely recognized it, but sucked willingly. Another cock rubbing up against his, grunting and moaning from every direction. Someone clutching around his chest, leaving a trail of love bites down his side and up his arms. Someone massaging his balls, licks here and there. He lost count of how many times he'd come.

Had someone said something about detention? Of course, that had been a common theme the last few days. Did everyone he gave detention to want to be ravished? He'd have to give more. Thoughts falling away again, a wash of pleasure, more straining, muscles tensing again, explosions of light behind his eyes. Would he survive this? His mind answered briefly, 'I don't care… I don't care…'

He was panting, mind reeling, muscles failing, and still the onslaught continued; he didn't mind, he was still enraptured. He'd lost track of time. Lost track of everything really. It could have been three or three-hundred people on him today, (had it been a day? Two? A week? Only minutes?) There was no way he could concentrate long enough to tell.

"Gods, he's good."

"Can't believe he's still going!"

A quick slap on his arm, as his teeth closed on nothing. "No biting!"

"Here, bite me," an amused voice sounded in his ear, the inside of an arm pressed against his lips and was attacked with ferocity. All he could think was 'Mine!' as he marked and bit along its length; huffs and whimpers being pulled from its owner, who was trying unsuccessfully not to thrash next to him.

At some point he lost consciousness, or at least had drowned in sensation, because when he felt himself coming to his senses again, all he could feel was a tangle of limbs draped over, beside, and once, under him. Warm bodies pressed into his. The sound of gentle breathing as the masses slept surrounding him.

He passed back out again, extremely content.


	7. Chapter 7

The quintet had returned to enthusiastic, though tenaciously muffled, cheers on behalf on the other students. Their stunt had remained undetected, possibly on purpose, by Madam Pomfrey, and they were quickly swarmed anew by students wishing to be regaled with stories.

Druce smiled, looking worn. "At least the ROC part is now official," he admitted, which led to another round of muffled cheers.

Draco was gradually pulling one after another of them behind the bookcase and helping them to extract their memories into the pretty little vials the room had provided for them. For all his helpfulness, Draco was gradually becoming much more palatable to the vast majority of the assembled students. He had brightened up quite a bit as well, feeling some real, rather than manufactured, camaraderie with students outside of his own house. It was odd to do _nice_ things and feel people actually liking _him_, rather than his family's influence or money. He thought he might like getting used to it.

As the students chatted, a _***pop***_ was heard and a house-elf appeared at Madam Pomfrey's elbow, thoroughly startling the witch.

"Sorry to disturb Madam, but you said to alert you when your patient awoke." There was a slight nervous clearing of a small throat.

"Not only has she woken, but she would not stay put. She began glowing and pushed past me. I could not stop her, sorry Madam, I believe she's on her way here…" The last word died in the little house-elf's throat as the door swung open allowing the previously incapacitated Ravenclaw to enter.

Poppy sucked in a small gasp, her hands worrying her apron. Nothing had been told to the girl yet, and she really shouldn't be here, though Dumbledore's spell would have affected her too, unconscious or not - now was just the first time it would have been able to manifest itself.

The students were oddly quiet, not knowing quite what to say, as many of them had heard someone had been hospitalized but no one knew quite why, or why she should suddenly be turning up now, days after the rest of them. They'd all gotten quite comfortable with the reasons they were there, but someone new entering suddenly made them all go self-conscious again.

Poppy quickly sent the house-elf to go fetch Dumbledore, and rose to greet the girl, while everyone else quickly feigned interest in other things and random chatter began to return again. Poppy had just pulled her off into a corner when Dumbledore arrived and strode over to them.

Chairs presented themselves in a cosy, private arrangement and tea popped into being on a table that had just appeared at their elbows. They all sat down, looking at one another rather uneasily, then all began to talk at once:

"My lass…"

"Audra, "

"Don't worry…"

They all stopped, looking somewhat discomfited. The girl, Audra, seized the moment to continue her thought.

"Don't worry. I _think_ I remember some of it, probably do if you're both so nervous as you look.

"I… I _think_ Professor Snape… kissed me?" The tone of her voice held that she still thought this highly unlikely no matter what her recollections were telling her.

"Possibly quite passionately?" She raised an eyebrow as if seeking confirmation.

"I don't remember anything after that, and if it was just a dream," she added quickly, "then please forget I said anything." She said, shifting uncomfortably while gauging their reactions.

Poppy raised an eyebrow at Dumbledore as if to inquire about the _Obliviate_ Severus had supposedly cast, while Dumbledore merely shook his head minutely intimating that the potions master had obviously not been in a fit state to cast it effectively.

"Should we?" began Poppy.

"No, I think she deserves to be filled in, then she can decide if she wants the memory erased right now or not.

"I hadn't anticipated she'd have responded to the summons, but I can't imagine why I didn't think she would. The fact that she's here, in this room, casts how we proceed into a somewhat, though not entirely, different light."

Slowly and delicately the facts of the incident were laid out before her. She took them all in, sat back in her chair and seemed to ponder them for quite a while.

Madam Pomfrey and Dumbledore sat calmly, patiently waiting for her to speak.

"So," she began, "he only kissed me because he was cursed?"

"As far as we can tell, dear," responded Poppy.

"And the rest - you said he was in quite a state over it?" she inquired.

"He didn't want to harm you, child, he tried everything he knew to stop. He was, in fact, in tears at one point. Severus may seem heartless, but I assure you he's not," Dumbledore supplied.

"And I am here," she gestured to the room in general, "because?"

At this Dumbledore rather self-consciously cleared his throat and explained the enchantment which had brought the students to the room.

"Well, that's rather embarrassing then," she stated flatly. "I guess if I'm glowing, everyone knows I have a thing for Snape."

"They were all glowing, dear, when they first arrived. Believe me, you're amongst friends."

"Do they know anything about it, I mean, me?"

"Only that you've been in the hospital for a few days. Reasons weren't distributed. You're free to tell them anything you like, or nothing at all, we'll back you up whatever you decide."

Audra leaned back in her chair, fingers thrumming against the armrests as she thought.

"I think I'm upset," she finally managed.

"No doubt you should be…" Poppy began.

"No, it's not that," she waved the sentiment away. "It's that the bastard knocked me out. I mean, yes, I was quite startled, but I would have been quite willing had he given me the chance to say so."

"So you don't want…"

"No. I think I'll keep the memory, thank you; he can kiss quite well."

Poppy eyed Dumbledore wondering what to say about that. No other students, much less Snape, not even Poppy herself, were going to be allowed to keep their memories of the event.

Dumbledore hummed.

"Oh, I see," she said, cottoning on, "No one's supposed to remember, are they?"

Dumbledore shook his head mutely and smiled apologetically at her.

She harrumphed.

"Can I go see him then?" she asked.

Poppy stared at her in mild disbelief, but as the girl seemed not to hold the happenings against the professor, she saw no reason to object.

She looked at Dumbledore who also nodded and said, "You promise you'll do no harm to him?"

She nodded. "I just want to talk, really."

Poppy chimed in, "You do realize he may be in no fit state to hold a conversation?"

"I know," she shrugged. "I'll wing it."

She looked back at Poppy, "You seem to think I should be more traumatized by this than I am. I'm okay. Really. It wasn't under his control, I don't remember any of it, _sort of wish I did,_" she added under her breath, "and he didn't physically hurt me. I mean, yes, the whole thing is bizarre beyond imagining but it could have been far worse. Have I missed something? _Should_ I be more upset?" She looked honestly and inquiringly at the medi-witch and headmaster.

Poppy cleared her throat, seemed to gather herself together, then answered, "No dear, you're perfectly correct in feeling however you wish to feel about it. I'm not one to dictate or to try and make you feel worse about things. In fact, I think you're taking this all extremely well, better in fact, than most people would. As you said, it's been a strange event all around."

"Ravenclaw," Audra replied, tapping the side of her head, "witty and wise. I see no reason to be any more upset than I am. Can I go see him now?" she asked.

"I don't see why not," replied Dumbledore, rising, "though if you even think you may 'wing it', as you say, you might do well to gather a look at that book over there," he nodded, indicating the ledger. "It's bound to have some sage advice on what you may expect and his general state of mind," he cleared his voice and added, "amongst other things," to his ramblings.

"I think we seem to have discussed everything there is to discuss, at least until Severus comes to his senses again, until then, I must be off. Poppy, you will, of course contact me when that occurs? We will be needing to cast quite a few charms to put this all behind us."

Poppy nodded and the Headmaster headed out the door, Audra to the ledger, and Poppy to her work, giving up her research into the nourishment spells she'd found so fascinating, yet so under-represented, and delving into new books on mass charms that suddenly appeared on her table.

Audra was moving toward the ledger when Draco intercepted her. He pulled her into a heartfelt hug, completely confusing her, and asked quietly, "Are you okay," having been the only one to know what had most likely placed her in the infirmary to begin with, and feeling horribly guilty for his part in it.

She hugged back briefly and perplexedly, then shook him off and replied warily, "Fine. Why?"

"Just heard you'd been in the hospital wing is all, and of course, you're one of us: the glowing ones," he grinned at her.

"Don't let it get to you," Devi said, approaching and smiling at her, "Draco's… _changed _these last few days. It's kind of thrown us all for a loop," she said with a chuckle.

"I take it you're going to visit him? Yeah, you'll definitely want to check _that_ first," Devi continued, indicating the book. "And when you get back, come see the rest of us right away, we're none of us supposed to remember what happens, but if you should want to… well let's just say, come see us anyway." She patted Audra's arm and left her to peruse the ledger.

It took her over an hour of non-stop reading to finish the thing, but when she had, she looked far more enlightened. She cast her gaze over the rest of the students and asked out loud, "All of you? Really? And he's not dead yet?" which garnered her some amused chuckles from the crowd.

"Go on," someone said encouragingly, "your turn now!"

"Carpe pennum!" urged another from the back.

She closed her eyes for a moment, took a steadying breath before opening them once more, and curling her fingers around the quill.

* * *

><p>Her appearance had so disrupted things that everyone had temporarily forgotten about poor Severus, who had now been left alone for a record ten hours. Not realizing that he'd already slept when the students were down with him last, Poppy had again insisted that he be given another eight in which to rest, later in the day after she assumed one of them had returned.<p>

The concern and discussions with Audra, plus the reading of the book, took up an additional two.

Audra popped into his quarters only to hear him cursing from his bedroom, the sound of something heavy being ground across the bare floor while he yelled, "_Finite! Finite Incantatum,_ dammit!"

She slowly poked her head around the corner to see him cursing his magical bindings, while trying ineffectively to dispel them; his jerking and wrenching against them scooting his bed haphazardly across the floor.

He stopped for a minute, listening. "Dear Mab, someone's here? Someone's here, yes?" he asked, desperation in his voice, before he spotted her peering around the corner. It took a moment for it to register, but when he recognized her, it was as effective as someone dousing him in cold water would have been, during normal times, at least.

He froze. He stopped breathing. He simply gaped for a moment before apologies began to tumble from him in an unstoppable cascade. She saw him trying to beat his head against the mattress, coupled with a look that could only be called heartbreakingly forlorn.

"I am so sorry," he panted. "Please, kill me. I didn't mean to. I couldn't stop. I really… just do whatever you need to. Hurt me, kill me, I don't care. Torture me, I promise not to enjoy it, _Crucio_ should do the trick," he gabbled on.

She quirked an eyebrow at him.

"I…" he began.

Sensing another bevy of apologies in the offing, she cut him off. "Professor!"

He looked at her helplessly, baffled.

"It's okay, I forgive you; wasn't exactly your fault to begin with." She sat down on the bottom of his bed.

The baffled expression remained.

"You should hate me," he gasped.

"And yet, here I don't. Whatcha got for that one?" she shot back.

His mouth opened and closed a few times, wordlessly.

"You should…" he started.

"But I don't." She stared at him hard, furrowing her brow. "Snap out of it. You didn't plan this any more than I did. Not your fault."

"I don't know how to set it right," he finally managed.

"Nothing _to _set right. I'm okay. Not. Your. Fault. In fact, I'm told you did astoundingly well in trying not to hurt me. Thank you. Although I should lecture you about knocking people out before determining if you really need to." She let this sink in for a moment.

He blinked. Opened his mouth to speak. Shut it. Opened it again. Shut it once more. And… blinked. It really was a stunning display of facial musculature.


	8. Chapter 8

She sat with him for a good hour while he processed all of what she said, often asking for clarification, which really wasn't needed, more for reassurance that what she'd said was, in fact, real.

She'd put her hand on his leg reassuringly as they'd gone over it time and again, but now as his brain was starting to slow down from the spin of incredulity he'd been under, the strain started to re-assert itself again; and though he tried very hard to keep her from noticing, the fact that his eyes glazed over every so often, and he was losing his train of thought more and more frequently more than made up for his efforts to keep his body in check. It was hard work, his breathing reflected it, and his muscles began to shake. He squeezed his eyes shut with the effort.

"Professor?" she asked, concerned.

"Thank you for coming, but I think it best if you leave me be for the moment. Perhaps you could notify Madam Pomfrey that I am awake."

"You've gone through all the volunteers already, Sir, I'm the last. And while I'm sure none of them would have a problem taking a second turn, I would think it unfair if I didn't get at least one," she smiled at him deviously.

He stuttered getting the sentence out, "After… after all I've put you thr… through, you want…"

"We've gone over this," she cut him off, "and I think I would have made my position on that clear. I just have one condition."

Snape wasn't at all certain this was something he should allow, but she seemed determined, and his body was beginning to overrule his mind.

"Condition?" he queried.

She leaned forward to touch her wand to his bindings, but before she could even reach them, a "_**NO!**_" resounded from him for all he was worth.

She stopped, completely bewildered, looking at him questioningly.

"No matter what state I'm in, I can't allow you, especially you, to free me. Fates only know what I might do."

"I was rather hoping for that," she replied. "I may not remember much of our last encounter, but the passion was quite impressive. I rather hoped to experience it again."

Snape thought for a moment. "Imperio has been used successfully," he suggested.

She looked horrified. "No professor, I wouldn't wish to be your puppet-master. I'd want you to do what you wanted to, under your own direction. She thought for a moment. I think it does bring to mind something a little less dark, however."

She swung her wand toward him, smiled and said forcefully, "_Confundo!_" Leaning forward she whispered in his ear. "A minute after I remove these bindings, you're going to forget, for the time being, everything that happened back until I entered the room the first time; then you're going to do whatever you wanted to do with me. You're not going to worry about me being a student and it will be abundantly clear that I'm completely willing. Do you understand?"

He nodded. "You're here. You want to be. It's okay. Yes." His eyes looked a bit distant but were clearing up quickly as the suggestion slid comfortably into his brain. She quickly dispelled his bonds and went to stand by the door, where she'd first come in.

She heard a bit of confusion from the bedroom as Snape came to his senses and found himself naked on his bed, as he'd been meaning to storm out to the dungeons to see what nitwit had blown up the lab _this time_, and began wondering if he had merely dreamed the explosion. Finding himself devoid of clothing left him in a bit of a quandary for a moment until she heard him yell "Accio, clothes!" then sounds of him scrabbling into his trousers, boots, shirt, greatcoat and robes.

Last she'd known, Malfoy had made them disappear, so she was uncertain how he'd gotten them back, unless he actually had more than one set of matching clothes; something she really wouldn't put past him, now that she thought about it. She still stood nervously in her place.

Snape stormed out of his bedroom, saw her standing there and quickly headed toward her. The scowl on his face quickly brought back the ingrained response of shutting her eyes tightly and letting out a tiny squeak. She had, after all, had 6 more years of conditioning to that response than she did of less than one hour of nice, apologetic, Snape, and that look could kill.

He stood mere inches from her. She allowed herself one eye open, then both, as she saw him standing in front of her, staring, mouth slightly agape, as one tremulous hand raised itself to her cheek, followed shortly by the other. All anger seemed to have drained from his face to be replaced by both confusion and lust. She saw his dark eyes become midnight as he leaned forward and roughly took her mouth with his. Just as before, she let out a small noise, but quickly sank into the kiss, pulling him forward with one hand behind his neck.

He pulled back, panting, and looking at her with extreme surprise and wonder on his face, before it dawned on him what had happened. "The… the… statue," he stammered.

"I don't care," she replied, grabbing the front of his robes and pulling him into another heated kiss, and _suddenly he didn't care either_. His breathing came faster as he pushed her up against the wall, hooking one arm under her leg, and rucking up her robes as he did so. She felt him lift her up against the wall, and wrapped her other leg around his waist. He fumbled with her underthings, eventually simply tearing them off as he seemed to have misplaced his wand.

He fumbled with his trousers as she breathed hotly in his ear, taking small nips along it and his neck as he did so. He groaned, managing to slip the buttons through their holes, allowing them to pool around his ankles. He grabbed hold of his freed cock, murmuring "_Contraceptus,_" as he slid it into her.

His head tilted back, eyes closed, as he felt himself slide into her. She was already quite wet. She actually wanted this, with him! He heard her groan into his neck as he settled in. "Please, yes," she gasped.

It was all the coaxing he needed as he felt himself starting to thrust up into her, pinned between him and the wall. Her eyes closed as she felt him thrusting upward. It was beautiful. He was large, very hard, and extremely enthusiastic. Her breathing began to match his as he plunged into her and she sank down to meet him. He bent his head down over her shoulder as his exertions continued, breathing rapidly, and making only half-formed words and grunts.

She'd fantasized about her potions professor since she'd been a third-year, and they'd grown more graphic as each passing year had gone by. Being fucked into a wall was one she actually hadn't considered, and while a bit uncomfortable, the sensations elsewhere were amazing. Seeming to sense her discomfort, he slid one hand around her back, and took one careful step back from the wall, balancing her weight counter to his, leaning back as he urged her to do to, forming a carefully balanced Y, his arms around her middle, her legs encircling his waist, as he continued to pummel her, literally bouncing her on his prick.

Her head rolled back, gasps escaping from her each time he entered. He felt her beginning to tense and knew he couldn't hold this position as she came and would likely bring him with her. He backed over to the couch, turned and laid her down, following with her. Drawing himself up on his hands he continued thrusting, the new position bringing wonderful new sensations and a slick tightness with it. He caught her mouth with his once more as he continued, their tongues entwining. Moments later, she broke off the kiss, pressed her head into his shoulder, then threw it back onto the armrest and moaned, her entire body arching against him, shivering, hands grasping at the front of his robes, as he continued to pound away inside her.

She vaguely wondered if she'd ever get her breath back, and held onto his robes for dear life. Even after all that, she was still turned on, and Severus hadn't come yet, though he looked close. She lay her head back on the couch and wrapped her legs around his waist urging him deeper, whimpering "Gods, yes, yes," into his ear, then landing several nips around it. His body began to stiffen, her arousal adding to his, until finally he exploded inside her. His head snapped back, his body racked from head to foot as he endeavoured to bury himself as deep as possible and time itself seemed to stop as he came. Finally, he slumped in a heap over her, breathing raggedly; the words, "Thank you," barely making it to her ears as he continued to pant.

A few minutes later, her voice piped up as she said, "Professor, I think you're crushing me." He came to his senses long enough to roll off of her and onto the floor as he continued to pull himself together.

Another minute had her up from the couch, reaching down to guide him off the floor. "Shower time, I think," she covertly demanded. He rose up, nodding, and followed her into the bathroom where they shed their clothes in a heap. She turned the taps until they generated a nice warm flow of water, and stepped in, pulling him after her. They let the warm water run over them for a minute before he cleared his throat, and looked down at her as best he could through the spray.

"Um…you're a student…" he seemed at a loss for anything more to say.

"Yes," she agreed, grabbing hold of the soap and beginning to lather up his chest, "and you don't mind."

"_No,_" he said a little bemused, "_I guess I don't_," as he snatched the soap away from her and, grinning, proceeded to lather up her front, too. "You know I don't normally do this," he said conversationally, "I believe I'm under some sort of curse."

"I don't mind," she replied matter-of-factly, "I've imagined this for years. If I can help out, then I'm all for it," she grinned; a bit of colour rose to his cheeks.

"I have no idea why anyone would desire me…"

She cut him off, "Are you joking? You're tall, graceful, aloof, incredibly intelligent, commanding, and though not traditionally handsome, you're fascinating, and your voice alone could bring anyone off. In fact, I'd be surprised if it didn't. I know some nights it's all I thought about. The very idea that you could be even mildly interested has probably been brain candy for most of the students here."

He snorted, but she shook her head. "Don't trust me? Fine, you'll find out later."

"Oh dear," he said, backing up against the wall. His erection was making itself known again.

"Wow," she chuckled, "that doesn't take much, does it?"

He shook his head. One hand pushed against his sternum as she pressed him further against the wall, then slowly sank to her knees, beads of water catching on her eyelashes as she looked up at him.

"Oh gods…" he breathed.

"My sentiments exactly," she echoed as she grabbed hold of his cock and slowly circled her tongue around the head.

His head tilted back, and his fists balled at his sides as she continued her work, bobbing and licking her way up and down his shaft. He made little whimpering noises that were extremely pleasant to hear. She started making mental notes of which movements elicited the best ones and tried to repeat them. The whimpers gradually turned into moans, groans, and something approaching a growl. His hips started bucking against her mouth, and he soon found his hands tangled in her hair, holding her face steady as he fucked her mouth. He'd nearly abandoned all thought but kept just enough to remember to let her breathe. She moaned around him, the vibrations sending shivers up his spine.

"Again, do that again," he muttered, and she happily hummed around his cock, while slicking her tongue along his length, which twitched under the new sensations.

"Oh gods, I think…" he let go of her head and she leaned back on one hand, pumping his cock fiercely with her other, angling him at her chest, while watching his face intently. One glance down at what she was doing had him quaking and coming within seconds. She watched his face contort in pleasure as she felt him spurt against her powerfully quite a few times. He began to soften and she relaxed her grip, looking down, pleased to see the evidence of his pleasure all over her chest. Not one to dabble in it however, she straightened up, leaned her back against him and guided his hand and the soap over her chest, washing it off cleanly. He simply let her guide his hand as he closed his eyes and worked to get his breath back.

After she finished with herself, she turned her attentions back to him, and washed him carefully while he moaned through it.

Turning off the taps, she stepped lightly from the shower enclosure, _accioed _a pair of towels to her, tossing one to Severus, and began to dry off. Severus looked around momentarily for his own wand before becoming distracted by her backside as she leaned over to dry her legs. She looked back at him between them, smiled and said, "Maybe later, Professor, but not until you're dry," then stood up to complete her task.

He finished drying in record time.

She sat back on the bed, waiting for him. He was physically spent for the moment, but lurid pictures kept popping into his mind. He crawled onto the bed next to her. She leaned down and asked, "If this was a dream, Professor, what would you do?"

A smile curled across his lips and he summoned a book from his library. They spent the next several minutes examining pages that had been well dog-eared, chuckling and agreeing on most of the things inside.

"That!" she pointed excitedly, "I'd like to try that!"

His eyes flicked across the picture and the few words accompanying it. His eyebrows raised. "Miss…"

"Audra," she corrected.

"…Audra," he purred. "I never had you pegged for a deviant."

"Well," she replied, "this _entire _book's deviant, _that_ one just looks like fun."

Hours flew by as they experimented with nearly everything in the book, as well as coming up with some novel ideas of their own. Urged on by Audra, and unwilling to disappoint, with his rebound time next to nothing, Snape actually found himself beyond worn out, and following their latest experiment, consciousness waning, simply collapsed onto the bed, soft, even breaths emanating from him.

Audra smiled indulgently, lifted the _Confunus_ curse from him, tucked him under the blankets, then, even though she was particularly convinced he didn't need it, placed him in a full-body bind. No need displeasing Dumbledore or Poppy for her "recklessness".

* * *

><p>Taking hold of the port-key she popped back upstairs. Made one note in the book:<p>

_** He's passed out.**_

Then made her way back into the throng of students.

"You were there a long time..."

"Nearly all day in fact."

"Aren't you _sore_?"

"Just you? You didn't bring back up?"

"What'd you do? Bring Pepper-Up potion?"

She smiled and laughed at all the comments lobbed her way, but found a rather insistent hand on her arm pulling her away from the crowd.

"You're the last one, Audra," it was Draco, "I take it you'll want to remember?" He asked almost as an afterthought.

She nodded, and he ducked with her behind the bookshelves, secured one of the few remaining empty vials and aided her in extracting her memories, which she then sealed and tucked into her robes.

She gave him a gentle peck on the cheek. "You know, you're not so bad, Draco," she smiled at him and stepped away, leaving him feeling enormously good about himself and blushing a little.


	9. Chapter 9

Evening fell and most of the students eventually wandered off to beds which were making themselves available, popping into existence here and there. Poppy waited until most of them were asleep before porting down to check on Severus.

He was sound asleep, chest rising and falling deeply as his body recovered from its exertions. He didn't seem to be squirming or sweating, and a quick peek beneath the covers confirmed to her that he wasn't even erect - a situation that hadn't happened for more than a few minutes each day - perhaps he was on the mend. There wasn't even a mess for her to clean up this time.

Poppy took a seat in Severus' quarters and kept an eye on him until morning, whereupon she went to fetch Dumbledore.

"He seems to be doing much better, Headmaster," she informed him, "no shaking or yelling last night at all, no shivering or moaning - it was a quiet night's sleep all through. He may have come to the end of it."

Dumbledore took hold of Poppy and apparated into Snape's quarters to have a look for himself.

Snape was still asleep. He truly didn't want to wake the man, since it seemed like the first restful sleep he'd gotten in days, but needs must. He poked Severus with the tip of his wand, "Wake up, boy, we need to talk to you." A few more pokes from the wand had him groggily opening his eyes.

"How are you feeling, Severus?" Dumbledore inquired.

"Tired," he moaned, "and sore."

"How about the other predicament?"

Snape's eyes travelled down the length of his body - it seemed to be under his control - no impulses were fighting to take him over and his cock was both flaccid and seemingly content to stay that way. He blew out a long sigh of relief. "I think I'm better."

"Do you feel you can be safely unbound now?"

Severus wasn't completely sure he trusted himself even now, but with Dumbledore at hand, he felt secure enough to try. He nodded.

"Good!" The Headmaster ended the spell holding him in place.

Snape stretched cautiously, expecting his body to betray him at any moment, but nothing untoward occured. He gradually climbed out of bed with no further incidents then rather more confidently summoned his clothes to him and began to get dressed.

Poppy summoned some food from the kitchens, and Severus ate ravenously while they discussed what must happen next. As he finished and put his plate aside, he nodded toward Dumbledore. "I understand. Obliviate me." Then his eyes flicked quickly over to Poppy, "You...?"

"Will be getting obliviated just after we take care of the students, yes," she supplied. Then his gaze shifted to Dumbledore.

"_Someone_ has to remember what occurred, in case something goes awry," the Headmaster explained, "Don't worry, my boy, I've kept far worse secrets than this," he smiled and winked, and Snape's usual sour expression reasserted itself on his face.

"Fine. But no one else."

"I promise." There was a pause then Dumbledore cleared his throat and called, "Dobby!"

The house-elf appeared seconds later with a short intake of breath once he realised where he was.

"Don't worry yourself, Dobby," Dumbledore soothed, "the Professor if very much back to himself now. Now if you could remove the protections you put up, I would greatly appreciate it," he continued.

"Oh, yes Sir! Dobby will take care of it immediately!" the little elf exclaimed, then quickly set to work reconnecting the fireplace to the floo network and popping outside to remove all the spells on he'd put on the door, and finally remove his handwritten sign. With a sigh of relief, he disappeared back to the other house-elves to let them know that Professor Snape was now no longer any more dangerous than he usually was, which was actually _very _dangerous, but at least didn't include sexually accosting elves.

Inside, Poppy lay Severus' wand down on the table and made her way out the door, to go check on the students and get things prepared.

"I am sorry about this," Dumbledore began.

"No, it's for the best," and Severus nodded curtly to indicate he should continue.

Dumbledore lowered his wand to Severus' head and cried out, "_Obliviate!," _and waited while Severus' eyes unfocused for a moment before the man came back to himself. He quickly explained that he'd had to modify Snape's memory for his own good, and left it up to Snape to infer that it was for some reason to do with The Order. Then he advised him to stay in and get some rest, which Severus was happy enough to do - he felt completely drained for some reason.

* * *

><p>Dumbledore arrived back upstairs and together he and Poppy managed a mass spell of forgetfulness, and sent the students back to their houses with a tale of a previously unknown magical illness which had been making the rounds and which had had to be isolated until the Headmaster and medi-witch could come up with a cure for it. The lie was scarily close to the truth.<p>

This all transpired on a Friday afternoon, and throughout the day, and part of the weekend, students kept becoming aware of new jewellery they were somehow now wearing, as well as finding heretofore unknown vials tucked away in their robes. Some of them even recognised what they were, but unfortunately no readily-available pensieves could be found. They all began to gravitate toward one another as they saw others wearing jewellery with the same inscriptions on it, but were all mystified to what it meant. By the end of the weekend, the knowledge of what the vials were had been spread as well as many theories about what the mysterious illness they supposedly suffered had been all about. Most believed it to be some sort of conspiracy, but were hesitant to talk to anyone else outside their own circle.

Come Monday, a few of them had Potions together and couldn't help but notice the normally suave Malfoy turning beet red and tripping over his tongue all throughout the class. He was wearing a tie pin with the same inscription, and many of them stayed behind to question him after class.

"If you want to know what happened, meet me in the Room of Requirement at midnight, and bring your vials. Don't get caught!" he intoned, before they broke apart to continue to their next classes. Word spread through he grapevine like wildfire, and that night at about 11:50 pm, the halls of Hogwarts came alive with experienced 7th-years skulking through the hallways to their destination.

Fate seemed to be on their side as no one was intercepted - a fact that, had anyone thought about it, should have been suspicious in itself, but as they were all focused on the mystery at hand, no one did.


	10. Chapter 10

Draco was already present as the rest of the group slowly filtered in, looking about themselves and muttering wonderingly to one another.

The room was empty, save an enormous stone basin which sat directly on the floor in the middle of the room, surrounded in plush red pillows, presumably for seating.

Draco scratched at his ear and waited as everyone came in and settled into place, then he counted just to make sure they weren't missing anyone. It all went quiet and all eyes were fixed on him as everyone awaited his explanation.

"Well," he began, still wearing a rather pinkish tinge in his cheeks, "I know we've all been looking for a pensieve to use these vials we've been hauling around with us in, and aside from a few very well-secured ones, such as Dumbledore's, they're extremely hard to come by. Since sneaking into _his_ office is next to impossible, I was wandering around wondering where to find one, when I found myself in here. Which, of course, meant the room knew what I needed and had provided it."

He waved his hand at the gigantic, shallow, stone dish they all sat around.

"So I tried it. Poured mine in and had a look... and let me say this: it is definitely a revelation you won't expect!" He turned even pinker. "They seem to be our individual memories of what happened over the days we don't recall - and if yours are anything like mine, and I expect they are from tidbits I alluded to in this memory," he waved his vial gently at them, "they're likely to be both thrilling and extremely embarrassing; however, the embarrassment probably won't last long as we all seemed to have been in this thing together.

"I suggest everyone get their nerve up, unstopper their vial and we all pour them in together, then have a peek. I'll pour mine in first as a show of good faith, but no one looks until they're all in there, right?"

One of the quieter voices piped up, "Once they're all swirled together, can we ever get them untangled and back to their own vials again?"

Draco brightened, this was actually something he was quite good at. "Yes. That's no problem. Just like you can select _just one_ of your own memories from a pensieve full of them, it's easy to pull one individual's out of a group of them - actually since yesterday, it's something I've read up on; you just need to focus on your own, and it'll come straight to your wand."

He looked around expectantly. "Anyone else?"

There was a sea of quietly shaken heads.

"Okay then," Draco slouched down onto his seat, unstoppered his vial and slowly poured the silver liquid in.

Everyone seemed to be holding their breaths, then a Slytherin girl boldly added hers to the mix, then a Ravenclaw, then several people at once, and several more, until all the remaining vials rested, empty, on the cushions beside them, and the basin, as large as it was, now seemed the right size for the job.

Draco gave it a quick stir with his wand, then intoned, "Now I only have an idea based on what I saw of my own, but I've no idea what, for certain, we might see in here, so let's all take the plunge together, shall we?"

There were more mute nods and people began holding their hands out above the swirling mixture. When all hands were present, Draco breathed, "Now," and they all descended at once.

* * *

><p>Most of the students had never used a pensieve before, although they knew what one was and how it functioned, most of them weren't quite ready for the feeling of falling that came with being immersed in a memory, or the utterly alien feeling of living <em>someone else's <em>memory - most of them strong enough that they weren't seen from the outside, as if looking in at something unfolding in front of you, but rather experienced as if you were the one _having_ the memory.

And while it was impossible to see anyone else wandering through the memories, they were all experiencing them at once.

With a little focus, it was possible to start wafting through them in a bit of chronological order - starting with Audra's somewhat hazy recollections of blowing up the lab, then being accosted by Snape and having everything suddenly go black as she was knocked out.

..

_(Apparently Draco, when first deciding what memories to retain, had decided against extracting anything to do with his part in acquiring or placing the statue in Snape's office - which now meant he, and everyone else, was blessedly unaware that he'd set off the whole thing to begin with.)_

..

Next came several recollections of Dumbledore's incantation, the faint glowing and compulsively walking to the Room of Requirement, the announcement, a great wave of embarrassment, curiosity and wonder, then many perspectives of conversations and bits of humour that followed as the tensions lessened.

While not everyone was exactly at the same place in the timeline, they were clustered fairly closely along it, and there was a collective inhale as they experienced Sylvia's first glimpse of Snape, not to mention everything that came afterwards, from her perspective, no less.

Sylvia, to her credit, was turning scarlet, but stolidly kept in contact with the pensieve, embarrassed to be sure, but far too curious to see what else was going to happen than to jerk herself away. To her relief, several other memories carried on in the same fashion after hers, allowing the watcher to become one volunteer after another as the remembered days progressed.

Most of the memories didn't have much to do with the time spent in between each volunteer - the exceptions being the response to the returnees and, of course, their stories; the jewellery making, and Draco's help with the memory extractions. Even so, the movement in between one sexual encounter to another zipped by amazingly quickly.

Many hours later, they'd run through them all, and slowly each person extracted their hands from the pensieve, most of whom then collapsed back onto their cushions, completely exhausted. Draco had been right: with the memories restored, the sense of camaraderie was back and embarrassment was almost nil. Minutes of silence passed, then a slow chuckle started, which was contagious, and soon the entire group were giggling, chuckling, snorting or belly-laughing.

_"Well __**that**__ was certainly more informative than the book!"_ howled one, then voices chimed in from all parts of the circle:

_"I'm exhausted!"_

_"Me too!"_

_"So __**that's**__ what it feels like to be a girl!"_

_..._

_"Oh yeah? So __**that's**__ what it feels like to be a boy?"_

More sniggering followed.

_"Damn shame we don't have the Professor's memories!"_

_"I am at once intrigued and repulsed by that! Did you *see* the agony he was in?"_

_"Yeah, but he got fucked by every single one of us. I wonder what that was like from his end?"_

_"We'll never know. They obliviated everyone."_

_"Except us, kind of... which brings up the question - what do we do now?"_

Several students propped themselves up to look at one another again. It would be devilishly hard to go to class now knowing what they knew, without either ending up beet red and stuttering, as Draco had that morning, or looking at one another and ending up giggling their way into detentions, which would - _oh gods_ - how would any of them handle _that?_

After several moments of silence, one of the normally quieter ones of the bunch piped up, "I think... I have part of an idea..."


	11. Cursed Frustration: Chapter 11

Draco waited until he was alone in his room before he called. "Dobby!"

The house-elf appeared in a puff of smoke, looking around himself nervously.

"Yes, Master Draco?"

"I'm not your Master anymore, Dobby, you can quit calling me that."

"Dobby tries, sir, but it's a bit ingrained, sir."

"And stop cowering, I wasn't _that_ awful to you."

"No sir, you yelled and insulted Dobby quite often, but you never hit us."

"I yell at and insult everyone, Dobby, though I'm trying not to so much, lately," he added, murmuring the last bit to himself.

Dobby thought this over for a minute, then straightened up a little. "What is it M... Draco wishes, sir?"

"You were here when all the craziness with Professor Snape started, weren't you?"

Dobby looked a little flummoxed - no one was supposed to remember that. On the other hand, he hadn't been sworn to secrecy - everyone seemed to naturally rely on the discretion of house-elves - no one had even thought to suggest altering Dobby's memory. On still _another _hand, Dobby liked to talk, to inform people, to answer their questions. It made Dobby feel useful, and Dobby liked being useful.

Dobby cleared his throat and shuffled his feet a little before replying, "Yes, Dobby was here."

"And you house-elves know pretty much everything that goes on," Draco pressed.

"Of course! It would be impossible to run a smooth house without knowing everything that happens."

"Not to mention you lot like to gossip." He paused for a second rethinking having said that aloud, "Not that that matters. Everyone likes a bit of it, after all."

Dobby smiled again. Draco continued.

"So, Dobby, you know what happened? How the whole curse was started?"

"Yes, sir, Dobby knows."

"What caused it?" _Now that had been fortunate wording, because if he had asked __who__ caused it, Dobby would have been forced to tell him, but he'd asked __what__, so Dobby gracefully sidestepped that answer._

"A statue, sir."

"A statue?"

"A _cursed _statue, sir. From long ago - used for ritualistic orgies, sir. Very _naughty_ object, sir." Dobby smiled a bit despite himself. As time had passed and he'd gotten over how terrified Snape had actually made him, he'd started to view the man's predicament in a funnier light.

"That's what caused it?"

"Well, the statue fell, and Professor Snape _caught it, _sir. By himself. When only entire villages were meant to touch it. But the Professor didn't know that, not until Headmaster Dumbledore _told_ him, sir."

"Where is it now, Dobby?"

_Now _Dobby looked nervous. "I shouldn't like to say, sir."

"Why not?"

"No one should be touching it, sir. And it's supposed to be shipped off to the British Museum of Magic in two days. Headmaster Dumbledore says it's an _artifact_, sir."

"Well have no fear, Dobby, I don't want to touch it." He kept on as Dobby continued to stare at him - he did know the family quite well, after all - "..._Or_ steal it, _or_ sell it, Dobby. I don't want it for myself at all; I simply want some scrapings off of it - to study."

"Just to study?"

"What else could you do with them?"

Dobby apparently thought of a few other things you could do with them, but nodded and snapped his fingers anyway, disappearing for a mere moment or two, then returned with a small bag, the bottom inch full of grains of dirt, sand and clay. He placed it into Draco's hands. "I magicked a bit away from the bottom, sir, where it wouldn't be noticed. It _is _an artifact, even if it is naughty, sir."

Draco stared at the small bag for a few stunned moments, actually impressed that it had worked! Dobby didn't owe him a thing, after all. "Thank you, Dobby!"

Dobby smiled sincerely, blushing nearly all the way to the tips of his ears. It was the first time a Malfoy had ever expressed gratitude, and frankly, even though he was a free elf, it was making him a bit dizzy. He nodded once again, snapped and disappeared back to wherever he'd been before Draco had called.

* * *

><p>It took weeks of experimenting, but Draco did finally figure out how to brew a suggestion into a potion - and not a bad tasting one at that. It could only be something incredibly simple, however, and luckily for Draco, that's all it needed to be.<p>

He added one grain of sand from the bag Dobby had procured for him, and watched the potion smoke slightly before turning into a tiny amount of clear liquid, which he then talked _another_ house-elf into spiking Snape's drink with.

He had promised her it would put Snape into a better mood after the night was over and for a few days beyond, and considering how fearful many of the house-elves were of Snape in general, and his foul moods in particular, he wondered that it had taken any amount of talking on his part. As it was, she was eager to assist in anything that might keep the potions master from snapping at them for a few days.

"It won't hurt him?"

"Nope. Promise. He'll just be in a better mood, though it'll take a small while to take effect, so just stay out of his way for a bit."

"_That_ is not a problem, sir," she squeaked, then happily disapparated to the kitchens, vial in hand.

* * *

><p>The IFSS-ROC, ROC for short, had taken to meeting just once per week, as they really had nothing to discuss other than the sexy times they'd had with Snape or their wishes to do so again, or to bemoan their chances of that ever taking place again. Well, tonight was Friday evening, and they were due to meet again after supper.<p>

He let it be known that _something_ special might be happening, but not exactly what, and interest was at its peak.

During dinner, he watched with interest as Snape ate his meal downing his drink in between bites. He also watched with interest as Snape's usually pale skin started to flush to a rosy hue around his neck and cheeks, then as Snape excused himself, got up and left the table. All the others in the ROC had been watching Draco with interest, so when he got up to follow the Professor, they rose to follow too.

Snape knew there was something out of sorts, he felt hot, and flushed, fidgety, uncomfortable in his clothes, yet something in the back of his mind was niggling at him to go to the Room of Requirement - that whatever he needed, he would find there.

He stopped short as he walked in - aside from a large basin, filled with shimmering silver in the centre of the room, the rest of the area was covered in pillows, cushions, softly upholstered benches, luxurious and gigantic beds and even one or two covered in rather kinky items: cuffs, ropes, and a paddle, among other things.

He heard the shuffle of feet behind him, and turned to see the members of the ROC filing in behind him, selecting various places to sit, and watching him intently.

Draco walked up to him.

"What are you doing?" Severus nearly snapped at him. For some bizarre reason, he was having trouble keeping images of himself grabbing the boy and snogging him senseless from his mind.

"Helping you."

"Helping me _what_? Why am I here? Did _you_ do this?"

"Mm-hmm. It's time you remembered."

"Remembered?" Slightly confused, he let Draco pull him over to the pensieve and lower his hand into it. Minutes passed as he held onto the sometimes swaying, sometimes gasping potions master, as the aforementioned swept his way quickly through the memories within before slowly pulling himself from it.

He looked around, completely taken off-guard. _"All of you?" _he asked.

There was a general nod all around, and a couple of them rose to their feet to approach him.

"And you want to...?"

"_Very much," _a female voice breathed into his ear from behind.

Draco, and now Druce were starting to unbutton his clothing, while the girls behind him were working him out of his robes.

"You're students," he tried to protest, but honestly his libido and everything he'd been shown in the pensieve was beginning to take over.

"And we're of age, and had the Headmaster's blessing. Plus, you _enjoyed it," _the Slytherin girl whispered into his ear from beside him.

"If you're cross, we can just sit in here for detention - I'm sure you could come up with _something_ for us to do," another student grinned.

_Detention, oh yes, that had featured heavily as a fantasy, hadn't it?_ He smiled despite himself.

"We're just here to help," offered another one eagerly.

Suddenly, he found himself in a state of undress not entirely certain how he'd gotten there - his robes and frock coat were gone, his shirt had been unbuttoned and pushed to the sides, and suddenly someone was working his trousers open, which was a blessing because he was _so fucking hard_ it hurt.

He tried to come up with some argument, not that he wanted to, but he rather felt he had to. "School. Classes. Professor..." Forming complete sentences was getting difficult as his thoughts grew fuzzy and those insistent hands unbuttoning the placket of his trousers were distracting.

"We've got the solution to that," purred a girl who was simply watching the action from a pillow a few feet away. "We don't remember _any _of it during the school days. We've got it down to an art so that we can focus in class and still do our homework without getting incredibly distracted. On the _weekends_, however... it all comes back. There's both a spell and a potion form. Quite handy."

"I. Can't. Remember this," Severus panted.

"You won't have to," she simply replied, raising a hand. And for a moment everyone backed off.

"Now you have to decide, Professor, do you want this? Complete with the ability to forget it? Or not?"

Severus just groaned as lips pressed themselves against his neck. "Oh god, yesssss," he hissed, then tumbled backward onto the pillows as a wave of bodies hit him.

Suffice it to say he was very distracted, entertained, and immensely sated the next day, the day after that, and even part of the day following that. He hadn't been in the constant agony his first encounter with the statue had created, but his drive and his recovery time were legendary, and there were willing bodies _everywhere_. He felt oddly like a sultan.

Ms. Slytherin had had her way with him multiple times, as had everyone else. He'd been submissive, he'd been dominant, sometimes he'd just been playful. It all worked well.

His mind had gone pleasantly fuzzy when he'd allowed it to, but he could also shake himself back to sensibility when he'd wanted that too.

He gave up wondering how many times he'd been ridden, sucked, or fucked someone to completion, nevermind all the other sorts of activities that had occurred in between. Everything had felt wonderful, and even now, the most stupefying thing he could think of was that they were all there because they _desired him. _Not only that, they were exceedingly willing to go along with just about any whim he had - though that had proved to be a two-way street with him fulfilling just about any want they had as well.

* * *

><p>Partway through the last day of their weekend, they lay recuperating and discussion picked up.<p>

"So you put something in my drink?"

"Yup."

"What, exactly?"

"Just a liquid suggestion that _here_ might be the place to be, as well as one tiny little spec of sand from the statue. It's what gives you all that stamina. And to cover all of us for days on end, I'd say it's good for you."

"You're not too old to spank, Draco."

Draco simply grinned and agreed.

"It was only to get you down here and see if you'd agree, once you knew everything."

"And I'm quite happy I did, though that was underhanded, Mr Malfoy."

"Less than underhanded and I'd be an insult to my name." There was a general chuckle of agreement at this.

"I am afraid, however, that it's time to forget," Snape announced. There was a huge moan of disappointment all around.

He nearly laughed and added, "If we don't, the next potions class will likely turn into an orgy."

"That would be fun!"

"_Not for the people who are not part of your little club," _he reminded them.

"But, for the record, I suppose I should add this, lest should I at any time, permanently forget this again - just show it to me and I will come 'round _immediately,_" he purred. Lifting his wand to his head, Snape drew out the memory and was about to add it to the pool, but a crystal vial clicked at the end of his wand, collecting it.

"Oh, we've got a special place for that, Professor," smiled Audra, capping it and moving to the rack where the vials were normally stored. As she slipped it into place on the top tier, silver words embossed the vial, spelling out 'Professor Severus Snape', their shape winding around the bottle, snake-like. A cheer went up.

Then sad goodbyes were made as memories of the day were forgotten, at least temporarily, as each of them either downed a draught of specialized forgetfulness, or allowed another of their peers to cast it on them. Snape was, of course, the last, as everyone else had wandered off in a temporary stupor as the spell took hold, before it allowed their heads to clear and them to go back about their work.

He considered for a moment _not _taking it, but dismissed that as quickly as he realised what utter agony that would put him in for the entire week, watching those who had brought him to such ecstasy day in and day out, and not being able to partake again before the weekend summoned him.

No, he unstoppered his bottle and drank it down.

* * *

><p>The next Friday evening, Snape had forgone his evening meal in favour of completing his grading on the current batch of essays he'd assigned, when suddenly a very odd sensation began - a niggling in the back of his mind that he had somewhere to be. Unable to focus, he lay down his quill, and started walking, letting his feet take him where they would.<p>

He ended up in front of the Room of Requirement, and a strange sense of deja-vu hit him. Cautiously walking in, he saw a few students scattered about the room, waiting for him. Then it all came back. He nearly lost his balance as his knees gave out. Steadied by a few hands he looked up to see even more people trickling in. Sitting back on his haunches, he simply stared, and swallowed.

Then the same girl who had given him the choice to end or continue it last time, approached holding something small between the ends of a pair of tweezers. She stepped up to him, holding it up - a grain of sand - and raised her eyebrow.

He knew he didn't have to accept it - they could just interact normally, though the stamina and recovery would be severely diminished. He also knew he could simply beg off for the weekend - no one would make him stay. He closed his eyes, opened his mouth, and let her place it on his tongue. A sip of wine washed it down, a cheer went up: and suddenly his buttons were flying everywhere. Then Severus chuckled for the first time in a week as he was toppled over, yet again.

* * *

><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

Thanks for reading! I can be found on Tumblr as BesinaAo3

Please do not repost or distribute this work on any other site.  
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